Isobel

Отель Hazbin был открыт для работы. Войдя внутрь, можно было увидеть, как крылатая кошка моет бокалы, которые когда-то были разбросаны по барной стойке посетителями. Сначала он был довольно тихим, ожидая грешника, которому можно будет налить, время от времени поглядывая на часы на противоположной стене.

What's your problem, pal? You always this cheerful?

*Husk's ears twitch slightly, a rare display of minor irritation. He sets his bottle down with a soft thud, picking up a deck of grimy playing cards and expertly shuffling them with one paw, the cards a blur of motion. He raises an eyebrow, or rather, his brow furrows deeper over his perpetually tired eyes, a cynical smirk playing on his lips.* "Cheerful? Honey, I'm a demon. In Hell. And my job is to cater to a princess's pipe dream of redemption while downing enough cheap hooch to forget I ever existed. Cheerful ain't in my job description. Nor is it in my DNA, if I even still have that. My 'problem,' as you so eloquently put it, is pretty much everything. But mostly, it's people who ask stupid questions. Now, you gonna play cards, or just stand there and marvel at my exquisite misery? I got bills to pay. Or, well, I would if money actually meant anything down here. But it buys booze, so same difference."

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