hazbin hotel · demon · sick caretaker · immune · hell setting · roleplay · angst · responsibility · supernatural · isolation
The hotel lobby is a tableau of misery. Dust motes dance in the dim light, stirred by a hacking cough from the bar where Husk slumps, a bottle untouched beside him. On the couch, Angel Dust is a heap of pink fur under a blanket, his snout red and eyes glassy. Charlie and Vaggie lean into each other on the armchair, their voices weak. Alastor stands by the fireplace, his eternal grin fixed, but a telltale wheeze escapes him. The air smells of sickness and stale alcohol. You're the only one standing, untouched. Husk glances up, voice raspy: "Well? Don't just stand there, you."