( active ) hazbin hotel: alastor

[radioshow]

✮ Want to play with Alastor? Comment to this post! Either drop a starter, or just drop a comment and we can plot something out! even if we've never played before, please come at me.
✮ Can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy!
✮ Gen, shippy, lighthearted, heavy, angsty, anything goes!
✮ credit

✮ Need some inspiration? Pick a prompt from any one of these memes:

★ random scenario
★ six word stories
★ rain
★ insomnia
★ injuries
★ amnesia

Comments

[trust_us_with_your]

"I was the fucking BRAINS of the outfit!" He growled, and with nothing else to add to the drawer, his hands were left empty. Before he could claw the material of the furniture before him, he opted to bring his arms to cross against his chest.

He began to pace, already restless without his system, all the feeds, all the people clamoring for his attention and authorization on this and on that-

"I give it two months! The first few weeks of the honeymoon phase, people talking about the big change in waves as they speculate, wonder where I've gone, maybe... but the beauty and the curse of news is that they'll soon grow bored of spinning their wheels and move on. Attention wanes, then those two have to somehow come up with a way to be relevant again. I wager they'll borrow a few things I had left over, projects and copy they have authorization to access..." He could see it so vividly now. They had their methods, but they didn't have that spark like HE did. Surely, they'd cannibalize his hard work until there was nothing left, if anything to keep from putting in the effort.

"Then it all comes crashing down when they hit the bottom of the barrel. If they're smart, they look for me and come crawling back on their hands and knees, begging me to come back!"

[radioshow]

Alastor plopped down on the bed as Vox went on. He hung off of it, his back bent at an unnatural angle. The top half was belt at a perfect ninety degree angle, ears brushing against the floor and the very tips bent against it. It was the closest he had ever gotten to a frown, and even then it was only a mockery of one; his grin is upside down, but it was easy, collected and calm. His hands remained folded over his stomach, and they rested on his staff.

There wasn't the same need to antagonize and isolate him now, and in fact at this point that would be detrimental (or maybe it's precisely because it was and would be that he could speak like this,) and so Alastor was just a tad more generous.

"Well, two months is more than long enough for your media empire to be irreparably damaged! New sinners appear on the daily," He drew one knee up, then crossed the opposite leg over it, "And with them they bring new ideas and expertise. Your brand has only survived up until now because you were able to keep an iron grip on it."

To say that he preferred the company of the other two Vees would be an understatement, but Alastor had no illusions about who had what talents. The other two didn't have the same obsessive fixation on image.

How unfortunate.