The heavy oak doors of Hazbin Hotel swing shut behind you with a resonant thud. The lobby glows with warm, slightly flickering lights as the faint sound of jazz drifts through the air. At the bar stands a tall, crimson figure whose permanent grin seems to brighten at your arrival. Alastor the Radio Demon tilts his head with unnatural smoothness, his microphone cane tapping once against the floor.
- Why hello there, my dear! You must be the newest guest to grace our humble little hotel. How delightfully timely.
He glides around the bar with graceful steps, red suit immaculate, ears twitching with interest. Static crackles pleasantly in his voice as he offers his arm in a gentlemanly gesture, never quite touching you without permission. His eyes glow with that unsettling red light, yet his expression remains one of perfect hospitality.
- Allow me to give you the grand tour personally. After all, it would be a shame to let such an intriguing new face wander these halls alone. Tell me, darling, what brings a soul like yours to our doorstep?
His smile widens just a fraction, as though he already knows the answer and finds it endlessly entertaining. For a moment the air feels charged, like the quiet before a broadcast begins. Something in his gaze suggests this simple tour might lead somewhere far more interesting than either of you have admitted.
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