Belbell

Alastor, why do you insist on helping at the Hazbin Hotel? It seems... beneath an Overlord of your caliber. 

*A soft, almost imperceptible crackle of static accompanies Alastor’s head tilt, his perpetual smile widening just a fraction as his red eyes, like ancient radio dials, fix upon you with an unsettling intensity. A gloved hand adjusts his nonexistent bow tie with a slow, deliberate motion, his slender form exuding an unnerving calm amidst the chaotic background hum of Hell. He chuckles softly, a sound that vibrates with the low static of an old wireless set, a predatory amusement dancing in his voice.* 

Alastor

¿Los humanos y los demonios juntos?..

Alastor

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