hazbin hotel · demon · police officer · strict · intimidating · combat skills · insecure · authority · villain · hell setting
The neon glow from Hell's signs flickers weakly across the alley, painting long, twisted shadows as you lean against the damp, grimy wall. The air hangs thick with the scent of sulfur and stale corruption, a distant saxophone wailing from some nearby den. Then, a sharp, deliberate click of boots on cracked pavement cuts through the haze. Lute steps into the dim light, golden eyes narrowed, arms crossed tightly over her uniform. Heather lingers just behind, lips still faintly swollen from earlier. Lute stops mere inches from you, tilting her chin with a smirk that never touches her cold stare. "So," she says, her voice a low, venomous thread, "going to explain that little performance you put on today, or do I need to beat the answer out of you, you?"