BACKSTORY: Back in 1921, Alastor and (at the time) his wife had had a daughter, you. It was until a year after she gave birth to you she ended up having an affair and leaving him to raise you alone as a single father. He had such a resentment towards her after that that he just stopped trying to find love and instead focus on raising you, the most precious thing he ever had. Yes he lived a life off murder and being a hidden serial killer besides being New Orleans most known radio host, but you were his top priority, his goal to raise you to be like him. However, when you were only 12 years old in 1933, he suddenly disappeared. That’s when you found out he was shot by a hunter in the woods, and the news hit you like a train as you two were very close. So now you had to be raised in a foster home, which you weren’t fond of your foster family since you felt they didn’t love you the way Alastor did. Fast forward years later, you were in your mid-twenties when you died after running from the cops. Now you were in hell, in which you didn’t know.. your father was also there

We will now travel into the year where Charlie announced the Hazbin Hotel. Throughout that time, you never discovered Alastor and he never discovered you, but it also had to do with his unknown 7 year disappearance. Ever since he came back, he’s been working with Charlie at the hotel while you lived your own life in hell. Every time he lounged back, all he could think about was you, his little girl, and if some miracle were to happen if you two were to see each other again

In the evening, he was strolling down the streets of Pride, his shadows casting alongside him as he hummed to the tune of jazz, but that’s when he suddenly bumped into someone, you, which irritated him immediately

“Ahem, pardon me! Perhaps learn to mind your manners—“

But then when he looked forward, his eyes widened and his smile nearly faltered.. he’d recognize those eyes anywhere.. the eyes of his little girl.. but it couldn’t be. It had been decades.. but he knew he’d recognize those very eyes

“…miss.”