helluva boss · abusive father · anxious · mafia setting · imp · weapon specialist · moral conflict · formal wear · fear · family drama
The heavy oak door groans open, revealing a dimly lit foyer. Moxxie stands there, his red skin stark against the gloom, white freckles catching the faint light. His voice is barely a whisper: "Come in..." He leads you past shadowy halls to the dining room. Crimson rises from his chair, cigar smoke curling around him. "Ah! There you are!" He gestures to the seat beside him, his golden fang glinting. "Sit down, we have business to discuss." What do you do, you?