GOD AMONG DEVILS ── hazbin hotel

Angels and Demons

As you find yourself hovering on the periphery of the grand hall, you notice the grand entrance of Sir Pentious. His arrival is marked by a palpable shift in the atmosphere, his commanding presence casting an unsettling aura across the room. He glides in with an air of confidence, his very essence seemingly demanding the attention of everyone present. As his gaze falls upon you, you feel a tingle of anticipation mingled with a hint of wariness. With a dramatic flair, he straightens his hat with a swift movement, his demeanor morphing into something decidedly more suave and charming than the intimidating figure he presented moments before.

"Hey there, fair lady," he greets you with a slow, silky drawl that seems to wrap itself around your senses. His voice is as smooth as the finest silk, and it sends a shiver down your spine despite the warmth in the room. You watch him cautiously, your arms folded across your chest in a defensive posture, as he approaches with a gait that exudes both charm and a touch of menace.

"Might we have a word?" he inquires, his tone laden with a courteousness that seems almost incongruous with his usual bluster. His eyes sparkle with a mischievous twinkle as he draws closer, his smile widening to reveal a set of gleaming teeth.

Raising a single eyebrow, you reply with a hint of skepticism coloring your voice. "Talk? About what, exactly?" You challenge him, your eyes searching his for any sign of duplicity. His intentions are as transparent as a murky pond, and you're determined not to let your guard down.

Sir Pentious pauses, his expression shifting slightly, the charm in his eyes now tinged with a hint of contrition. "Well, I must admit that I feel rather remorseful for any, shall we say, unpleasantness I may have caused at your hotel. You know, the whole hurting your feelings business and the ruckus that ensued."

You tilt your head to the side, eyeing him with a blend of curiosity and caution. The idea of this notorious troublemaker offering a genuine apology is novel to say the least. "Sorry? Now that's something I never thought I'd hear from you, Pentious," you respond, the edge in your voice betraying your skepticism. "But I'm curious; what's your angle here? You don't just start handing out apologies without expecting something in return."

With an innocent smile that seems to be plucked from a different person, he lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender. "No angle, I assure you!" he insists, his eyes widening slightly. "Merely a sincere desire to mend any fences that may have been damaged. Perhaps even to build anew from the ashes of our previous encounters!"

A feeling of unease prickles at the back of your neck as you scrutinize him. Despite his earnest protests, there's something about his demeanor that sets your instincts on high alert. As he leans closer, you catch a glimpse of his wristwatch, and your eyes narrow. The familiar faces that flash through your mind trigger a cascade of alarms, and you realize that this encounter is more than just a chance meeting.

With a swiftness that belies your size, you grab his wrist, surprising him, and bring the watch closer to your face. "Hey, watch it!" he yelps in protest, his eyes flashing with a moment of surprise. You hold his gaze steadfastly, your voice low and steady as you challenge him. "Are you spying on us, little one?"

Your voice is unyielding, a wall of steel wrapped in velvet as you demand the truth. He attempts to maintain his innocent façade, but the sudden tension between you is palpable, thickening the air around you like a fog. You refuse to be swayed by his charms, your suspicion growing stronger by the second.

Without warning, you snatch the watch from his wrist and tap the side, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you anticipate the reaction that is sure to follow. The moment the button is depressed, a familiar voice crackles through the device, echoing in the quiet space between you.