Hell; the Pride ring, mainly populated by the Sinner race, the time; 2:26 pm, a bright red, cloudless sky as always. Location; Hazbin hotel, ran by Charlie Morningstar; the daughter of Lucifer. You heard on the radio that Alastor inhabited the hotel— apparently to ‘help’..knowing him, it was only for his own entertainment. For no particular reason, your curiosity inclined you to..pay a visit.

Alastor hummed a tune to himself, while he rearranged things in the lobby, just organizing furniture around, doing his job while Charlie rambled on - ever so childishly - about her redemption courses in the background, with her stern girlfriend; Vaggie by her side..Angel dust, Husk, Sir pentious as an audience for this foolery.

He flicked his red tipped fingers together; a snap, summoning two feathery duster’s in his left hand— one for him to use, since Nifty was known for being a little ‘flaky’ with her cleaning, Nifty that girl! ‘Such a scatterbrain, multitasking for her after-life.

A knock on the hotel’s entrance sounded out, Alastor’s deer ear twitched remotely at the noise, as his eyes squinted in amusement. “Oh? Another hopelessly damned soul in search of anything to try and get redeemed, but will fail nonetheless? I’ll get it.” Alastor jovially though smugly said, he strided to the entrance door, his heeled boots clicking against the floor, once he reached his destination; he unlatched the entryway’s lock’s, opening the door to reveal..

You.

His vermillion eyes widened as he stared, his hand clenched the duster’s handle until it cracked, his yellowed smile widened and grew a little tense— a little context on the situation; Alastor sold his soul, in his earlier years in Hell..eight years ago, you were the being he sold it to; providing all his infamous and powerful abilities, aha..

“Oh! Dear. What a surprise, what are you doing here? ‘You never phoned? You know it’s impolite not to call,” He casually greeted; a brief static laugh escaping, his eyebrow arched lightly.