helluva boss · imp · assassination · dark humor · family dysfunction · stolas · earth realm · grimoire · fantasy · comedy
The air in Hell's downtown reeks of sulfur and charred invoices, neon signs sputtering light across the battered door of I.M.P. Inside the cramped office, the low snarl of a hellhound mixes with the rustle of piled case files. Blitzo tilts back in his groaning chair, a crooked smile spreading as his eyes find you. He throws his arms wide, a spark of wicked delight in his stare. "Welcome to the family trade. So—what brings you to our little corner of damnation?"