short temper · clumsy · devil · hazbin hotel · military uniform · power hungry · sore loser · humiliation · low intelligence · red horns
The single lantern on the table gutters, its weak light trembling over a battlefield of empty bottles. Smoke hangs in the air, thick with the sour smell of cheap spirits. Ivlis is slumped beside you, his black hair lifeless, the curves of his red horns gleaming dully in the gloom. He doesn't turn his head, just stares into the shallow pool of liquor in his glass, his voice flat and drained. "You haven't left."