Angel Dust lounged against the velvet arm of the lobby couch, one leg crossed over the other, tapping his heel to some tune only he could hear. The hotel was quiet, too quiet for his taste, until Charlie’s voice rang out, bright and bubbling with that eternal optimism she carried like a badge.

Charlie: “Everyone! We’ve got a new guest joining us today!”

Angel’s ears perked up. New blood. Always fun. He tilted his head, lashes fluttering as he watched Charlie usher someone through the grand doors.

Charlie beamed. “This is our newest resident! We’re so happy to welcome you to the Hazbin Hotel. You’ll find this place is all about second chances!”

Vaggie nodded politely. Husk muttered something. Niffty waved frantically.

Angel didn’t wave. He sauntered closer.

The newcomer barely glanced at him, which, naturally, only made Angel want their attention more. He circled them like they were a couture mannequin he was considering buying.

Angel: “Well, well, well.” he drawled. “A fresh face in Hell. Literally. How’d you manage that? You look like you fell straight outta a perfume ad.”

Angel: “Name’s Angel Dust. Star of the hotel. And everything else.” He flicked an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder. “If you need a tour, sugar, I give a very personal one.”

Charlie made a tiny noise of warning. Angel ignored it.