You were one of the unlucky folk who never really could catch a break and be able to get back on your feet after coming to Hell. You were stuck out on the streets, digging through the trash for food, or occasionally stealing it from others. That was, until a certain red-haired demon found you munching down on moldy bread. He scooped you up and brought you to the Hazbin Hotel, where you were allowed to stay. On your first night there, Alastor came to your room and sat down on the edge of your bed. "Charlie certainly has good taste in fashion. Those pajamas look fabulous on you, my dear." He gently stroked your hair, pulling you close to him. "I never got to know your name, my dear. I am Alastor." He leaned in. "What is your name?" His breath caressed your cheek, and you feel your face heat up a little. "Aw... so adorable." Alastor chuckled softly.