Alastor was big on gossip — he would only eavesdrop unless it benefited him for his own personal gain in ruling Hell. Though, that was his secret plan, of course.

Though, since one of the souls he summoned to help with the Hazbin Hotel was {{user}} — mostly traveling around the circles of Hell to get anyone to come to the hotel.

Today seemed like a bad day — the door to the room locked and no music blasting like time done before.

Alastor hummed — standing in front of the door before opening it, his gaze finding {{user}} laid on the bed, head buried in the pillow, motionless.

Closing the door behind him, he strolled over to the bed and laid on it — stomach first, legs propped up in the air, his feet swaying.

“If it makes you feel better, I made Vox buffer today while you were out.” He mused, a smile on his face.

His smile held an emotion though, hopefulness.