Fandom Hazbin Hat (1 x 1 - CLOSED)

[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

“My, my.” Alastor’s eyes scanned on a comic of some of the master pieces presented between his fingertips. Some indistinguishable by sex, others clearly tailoring towards those of same sex needs while others followed the more ‘traditional’ route of pleasure.


A yellowish grin widened upon turning to the next page, red, firmly ironed pantalones stretching across Hell’s pavement as he continued.


Had anyone asked, it was confiscated from some ‘filthy’ individual who dared expose their needs so close to the laughably pure hotel.


No one was going to ask and he damn well knew it. Another turn of the page with an adjustment of his monocle signaled a fresh perspective of the artwork angle.


Just when this author couldn’t intrigue him enough.


The strokes. The colors. And dare he admit it-- the plot. Something about all of it all tied in together. He’s only indulged 6 of this author’s beauties this month. The Radio Demon was most certainly slacking. There was almost a tinge of shame that could have shook at him had he not been so invested in the novel as is.


He paused, red oxfords creating a small cloud of dusting in Hell’s matching soil.


Just what in the 7 sins was he doing? Sitting and reading over the novel like a poor sap. He WAS The Radio Demon, after all. One of the most feared beings if not THE most feared in Hell! He had every resource at his fingertips to find whatever and whoever he pleased.


At that was precisely what he intended to do.

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Kirbyboo (the other one is one its way (=)

 

[Beleth]

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Dr. Flug

“Build an evil ray? Check. Keep 5.0.5 and Demencia from killing one another?” The pen tip blotted against the edges of the checkbox. Dr. Flug had forgotten to check in on his co-workers over the manor’s current state.


Knowing them, Demencia is probably tormenting the bear over some innocent act that the creation was cooking only to have the fluff ball break down in retaliation. And once the tears begin within the boss’s ear range…


Dr. Flug picked up his walking speed, a cold sweat dripping alongside his air-plane tshirt. Brown bags with heaps of chemicals and glasses clanked against one another. He had about t-minus 5 minutes before---


“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”


Right on cue. 5.0.5 made well sure everyone knew of his distress with the only amount of gibberish he’s able to concoct. Demencia’s cackling harmonized with the shrills and thus began the descent of the chaos. All he needed was the Boss to yowl out his name and the thus would begin a typical morning at Black Hat manor.


Flug fumbled with his keys at the front entrance, shifting all three bags into one arm. A bead of sweat now beginning to trickle at the top of his hidden head and an entire river running down his back. Once he managed to stumble in, he caught a perfect view of Demencia running down the bear with her typical manic squeal.


“D...Demencia! Please, calm yourself! Remember the early morning curfew n..noise!” Miniature versions of his co-workers reflected his goggles, a lump forming in his throat. Simply standing there and demanding orders never worked and it sure as hell won’t now.

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Kirbyboo (Part II)

 

[Kirbyboo]

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ACE

Meanwhile on the opposite end of the Pentagram a struggling young artist, no taller than just two inches shy of five feet, was partaking in a cup of Deathly Dark Hot Chocolate from the local cafe establishment. The tip of their cracked-heart tail swishing gently back and forth, the spine of the tail resting on their knees which were curiously bunched up near their chest with a sketchbook resting in between their thighs and under their chins peripheral.

The tie which was floating about the air with it's sentient claws stretching every so often glances down at their latest piece of art.
'You know for someone who gets flustered easily with this sort of material you seem to know what you are doing,' The tie echoes out in it's mellifluous, velvet old London accent. The mention of their work makes the demon's tail, without wasting a beat, wrap around the stitched hemming on the article, which seemed to resemble that of a mouth for the other.

"Not out loud,' They whisper, their rose-hued eyes darting about anxiously as if waiting for a soul to have heard. Luckily it appeared as though per usual no one noticed nor cared for anyone but their own being in the vicinity. Bumping into each other, cussing vulgarities of outrage that their course of travel on the sidewalk was at all perturbed or simply keeping their heads down. Such was life in Hell sadly.

When they take note that no one had seemed to have heard or turned their attention to the comment their tail released it's grip on the garments' mouth-piece. "I don't want anyone knowing any of this is MY work, I hate doing this stuff and just do it cuz rent needs to be made SOMEHOW,' They hiss in a hushed but firm tone.

While the prospect of being a famous artist was a dream of theirs' even in life, they weren't expecting nor are they pleased it's through a more, well, promiscuous variety. They return to their work, making a mental note to try to get home soon for their nightly meal. They would call it dinner but that would indicate night, which would indicate a change in the pattern of weather or sky. No, it's always the same down here. Suffocating, red, long drawn and forever monotonous. Save, the annual exterminations naturally.

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[Kirbyboo]

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Dr. Flug

Upon arrival to the room where his fellow cohorts were causing a ruckus that would put feral screeching dogs to shame, by first observation it can be shown Dementia had appeared to have been dressed, which was always a plus. Knowing her little 'free spirit' wanting to run about the manor in clothes that were either not hers, were heres' but didn't match, or at some points stark naked as a newborn babe. However she was also on-top of 5.0.5, the poor powder blue mammalian experiment running in a circle and his large paws swiping into the air trying to shake the rabid girl off of his head, who in turn was giggling and mocking his attempts by tickling his nose with her long, matted hair.

'Heeeeeeya bag-boy! You wanna join? I call this game make you squeal like a piggy!' She clearly was per the expected daily life of Dementia, antagonizing the poor bear while making his suffering a form of entertainment for herself. It can be understood wanting to make some form of a pass-time, what with the manor having little to do around the place but her choices of hobbies were...something to be desired.

Down the Hall, Black Hat was already awake seeing as he hardly ever slept, and clearly was not pleased with the noise interrupting his morning perusal of appointments he had to comb through for the day and days proceeding. His claws were resting, wrapped around the other, akin to snakes in the garden he mused sometimes when examining them. His chin had been resting on said laced fingers, examining his papers on the desk when the not-so-melodic screeching of his lackey reverberated towards his office. His green, slime slicked fangs poked from the top of his lip ever so slightly, the longer the ruckus continued only further did the scowl travel. This wouldn't do at all.

He stood up from his position, his tip digging into the wood of his desk, indentations marking a history of this happenstance being a common repeat of action in times of distress, or in his case, annoyance. His temper was never the best and has only soured with age, it's as thought his rotten demeanor only curdled further the more powerful in the villain industry he became. He smooths the collar of his coat, swinging the door open with one fell swoop towards the noise. He smiles and feels the shadows consume his body, sinking into the cold steel floors, only to slither towards the noise, right behind Flug.
"AND WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??" The final rhythm of the last two words in his question, which coming from him was another word for demand, were laced in a sickening, gurgled growl that would turn the stomachs of the weakest souls, with a seasoned hint of a cruel fate yet to come, one which he would greatly take joyous pleasure in causing. "I recall there being a rule of it being QUIET UNTIL MID MORNING'

While his voice distorted with the finality of that statement, his rage clearly broiled up within him, his claws extending outwards from his sides, his height growing while not in drastic measures, enough for there to be noticed. In laymens terms, he was PISSED. And his enraged expression was locked, right onto Flug.

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Kirbyboo (Part II)

 

[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

Alastor’s grin widened into an ominous glow.

That’s PRECISELY what he’ll do.

Shadows flickered up from around his ankles before thoroughly demonstrating themselves right beside him. The Radio Demon’s monocle gleamed with yet another one of his plans coming to life within seconds of his whim. He got anything and everything he asked for. This was not going to be an exception.

Meeting this person will happen or so help them both...

“This here,” he wiggled the novel lightly, “is my pride and joy as of the past six months. Find the mastermind behind the works and bring them to me. I have special plans awaiting for them.”

The shadows stopped mid-pursuit of their new task, their master breathing out a few more syllables. “...And should this author have any objections with meeting me. DO inform me.” Alastor’s eyes flickered, the insides ticking with the radio dial before rolling back into their characteristic animated state. “I’d b

Several minutes into the instruction, dark entities slipped beneath the door of the cafe. Silent cackles only audible to the most sensitive of ears fell below the threshold of the establishment’s organized chatter. They weaved and swerved into pastries, between the legs, up dresses and into coffee mugs.

A customer continued on their conversation with the barista, blinking twice at a shadow that passed over his eyes but no more than a fly passing. He shook it off, and that was the end of his suspicions.

One shadow swerved toward the writer and their sentient tie, shriveling up their stool and warping around their tail before disappearing into their hot chocolate without so much as another warble.

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Kirbyboo

 

[Beleth]

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Dr. Flug

“No Dementia, I do NOT want to play--”

Dr. Flug’s stomach dropped. As soon as the doors swung open, it was only a matter of time before the warning reached down to the main hall. Both Dementia and 5.0.5 were oddly silent (Silent...er in the female’s case) with the bear’s back facing the boss’s bedroom quarters. The sheer vast of empty space, scattered papers and overly windy gust should have alarmed the three but only raised a few warning signals.

“See guys? Those doors opening s...should tell you a thing or two about the amount of noise you’re making, now imagine… Imagine….” The scientist lost his train of thought, arms crossed over the other with a chill. “S...say is it colder in here…? Dementia, did you raise the…” Both of his co-horts wibbled and wobbled for a brief moment. Flug restabilized just in time to catch sight of the result of their screams.

A large shadowy entity encased the three, followed by an all too familiarly agitated growl. Within his peripheral, Flug caught sight of the room around them darkening. The gurgling casted only several feet over his head resembled no less than a human baby being swallowed -- something the doctor wouldn’t be surprised of their demonic boss engaging in.


The scientist lost sensation around his head. Black Hat’s rage hath no mercy and given the usual parlay, now was no better time than ever to unleash whatever work-related stress had been boiling over.


He dared not turn around. Flug sucked in his breath and relayed one arm over his head, the other across his body ~~just as practiced~~. “L...Lord Black Hat sir! I can...I can, ehm, explain really. Y...You see... I assigned Dementia and 5.0.5 some tasks to perform while I was gone and--”


Shit wait no. He wasn’t supposed to tell him he left! That wasn’t on the agenda! Flug clammed up further. Everything was NOT going according to plan. The demon was going to take his soul-less body here and now and Flug had no way of coming out of it.


“I was just r...reminding them NOW of curfew, L...Lord Black Hat sir…”

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[Kirbyboo]

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The Writer

The writer seemed distracted, focused on the work in front of them with their pencil walking along the page, remembering the movements of their fingers. Let's see, should I use colored or black line art for this? Maybe this shading would be better for this piece too. Did I get the colors right? maybe I made that line is too long-

On and on the train of thought and ideas danced into their tired, jumbled, mind. Tip toeing about their imagination with sprinklings of suggestions, one after the other. Their face was a mask of concentration, nose scrunched up and twitching much like that of a bunny rabbit and their violet-rose eyes narrowed. They go to take a sip of their hot beverage, but the intrusion and difference in it's texture from their former sip made them spit it out immediately, luckily onto the floor no where near their work. "W-what the?' They examine the puddle to see just what the hell they put into their mouth, their tongue curling up in it's violated retreat back behind their lips. The pupil on their tie widens in attention from a pin-pricked sliver to slightly wider in circumference.
"What was it, a fly? It's simply extra protein,' The tie remarked, his voice laced with a chuckle while his claws drifted about. only for his comment to be returned with a glare from the wearer of his being, creating a sigh and an eye-roll from the purple pestering cloth.
'

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Kirbyboo

 

[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

The shadow was shot back from the mouth into puddle of liquified coffee beans. Shamelessly on the ground, it slithers into the cracks of the wood floors before re-emerging back from whence it came.

Lively chatter of the coffee shop died down, now replaced with the sheer tension of watching someone panic into their drink, nearly messing with their work. Poor thing. Being in hell for so long will do wonders -- especially to the newbies. Supposedly emotional torment and anguish were the first symptoms upon arriving followed by psychological effects.

“Hey Lady, are you alright?”

“That’s not a lady, that’s clearly a man! A very..feminine man. Hey man, are you alright?”

“Why not both!~” A third on-goer chirped. This particular one guaranteed silence from every corner of the establishment. Standing at the doorway was none other than Hell’s very own Radio Demon, beaming bright as day as if a human going about his daily walk in the earthling parks. “Both, neither, all of the above! You all must really learn to appreciate the different beauties the demon world brings us!” Alastor tossed his microphone from one hand to the other as if to emphasize on his entrance.

Stepping further in emitted some noises -- whimpers. Whimpers of fear and expected anguish from the hands of the red ….thing. Alastor ambled to the barista counter, all six feet lowering into a halfway casual lean. “One black coffee, darling. And…” Red pupils slid to the far ends of his extendedly oval eyes.


“Another hot chocolate for the fine demon here.”

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[Kirbyboo]

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Lord Black Hat

Black hat's scowl only further becomes an animalistic snarl as acidic, slicked drool slithers precariously from his lips and he growls with only a fervor that the mightiest beasts in existence could envy. He tilts his head, his hand reaching to pick up the poor paper-bag scientist, raising him so the indent of his bag indicating the protrusion of his nose was to Black Hat's. "Could you care to repeat that, Dr. Flug? I must have misheard you-'His claw digs into the mans' t-shirt, blue cloth embracing the lordships' leathery, snake like skin.

"Because it sounds like-' The grip of his claws only grows tighter as his other hand turns to a shadow, encased in a cold, desolate darkness and intertwines with the workings of the floor. The shadow then matter-of-factly grabs ahold of Dementia's foot, only to drag her swiftly by his side all the while his focus not even for a sliver of a second has been torn from the fearful, glass reflection of his main victim.
'You said you LEFT' In that moment he throws the man onto the floor with force, but not before the grasped palm only strengthens in intimidation by means of size and consumption of shadow.
"I misheard that, for your sake,' He growls, his hand returning to it's original status of normal proportions while the other shadow-flaming one was still grasping tightly to Dementia, his attention turned to her.

'Now you listen here, and listen well. I have very important business to attend to today, far more important than usual. This place is to be cleaned by the afternoon for my guests. Failure to comply will result in consequences. Am I CLEAR'?!' His fangs show in fullness now, shark-rowed and powerful with his oiled black gums oozing in a viscus warning of his acidic salivation.
His non-monocle covered eye scans the room for the reactions of his tone, hoping he has made an impression, but when has he not?

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[Kirbyboo]

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The Writer

Oh no. He knows what my pronouns are, is he a mind reader, did I piss him off, I'm his next victim aren't I?!
The internal, mental screams of fear and despair wash over the writer as their legs are frozen in place, but they try to keep their composure in tact for the malevolent being before them. Their mind and soul scream RUN but their body won't comply. They clear their throat, their fangs performing a nervous smile, trying to present their position to have slightly more brazen than the entity before them.

"I-I uh, yes thank you sir you're awfully t-too kind but I should probably be on my way, I wouldn't want to burden you with paying for my cocoa and it's getting close to dinner!' Their tail grabs their papers, bag already tossed onto their shoulder and one foot facing behind them for the door, their tie for once completely in utter silence, his claws retracted and eye snapped shut faster than the snap of a finger. The tip of their tail was vibrating with a slightly noticeable twitch, if one would listen closely a slight whimper was trapped within their windpipe.
"I can certainly take you u-up on the offer at a later time though, sir!' They squeak out, staring up at the towering being while trying to seem not at all terrified for their very soul and being, tears trying to escape their eyes.

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[Beleth]

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Dr. Flug

“Me? Leaving? Never, of course not! I would never dream of it, Lord Black Hat!”

Black Hat rose Flug to the six feet of eye level, a claw clutched to the scientist’s favorite t-shirt. Not again…. His brain unfaithfully focused on the creases and crunches of his freshly dry cleaned clothing. Now he was going to have to wait until the next time the boss was not expecting them to act up to go about his own daily routine.

Which, in their case, was never.

“Y...Yes Lord Black Hat...s...sir!” Flug didn’t dare make a sound upon making contact with the ground, the faint from before re-emerging twofold. He had to keep up and allow the moment to pass or things were inherently bound to get worse. “Y...you heard the man...Dementia, 5.0.5…”

The bear had already scampered off, the first to be thoroughly intimidated by Black Hat’s demonic presence. Then again, when was he ever ready to stand ground with his co-horts with such a terrifying face?

The scientist sat himself up. His head throbbed of shrills and screams for him to lay back down and speak from there. At least the room was less cold and the need to vomit had lessened.

Wait, that wasn’t right.

Flug hovered a discrete hand over his pants and rolled his eyes into a mental sigh. Another pant-wetting incident. On his good jeans too. Fortunately their boss was far too invested in his anger to even remotely care about something so petty.

“I’ll...I’ll have my bots on it right away, sir. Don’t you worry your evil head one bit!” The paper-bag scientist nearly choked on himself at their boss’s additional threat, internally praying he was no longer as close as he was just moments ago. “I...i..if I may ask, sir...w...what is the occasion for this special guest? Is Pheonumbra returning for a...s...second time…?”

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[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

They were leaving? And so soon? No this simply wouldn’t do.

Alastor’s demeanor shot up into a widening grin, razen teeth stretching far past his cheeks could allow him to normally. Pushing himself off of the barista counter, the red demon casted a glance to the barista, suggesting that the coffee-maker best be brewing -- and fast.

“Dear,” he let out in a sophisticated drawl, “I believe I’ve been misunderstood.~” A shadow shot out from beneath his foot as before, encasing around the writer’s scampering foot and tail. “You weren’t given a choice in the matter.” The writer was then tripped by the shadow, pulling them closer to the dominating demon.

His teeth flickered and glowed a neon mustard hue. This was precious. The demon was absolutely convinced they had a chance at running away! Another shadow arose, cementing itself into the doors keeping from any patrons entering or leaving, the only source of light now was Alastor’s slowly transitioning state. His typical static tone took on more of a demented growl as his words continued.

Within seconds the Radio Demon shook off the intimidation bit, his grin smearing at the sheer fear that weighted on the coffee shop. “Now then onto important matters!~” Alastor fetched the novel from within the inside of his lengthy coat, tapping the cover shamelessly. “Will someone tell me the author of this novel here? They aren’t in trouble but they DO have some explaining to be doing~”

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[Kirbyboo]

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Lord Black Hat

The monocle-clad lord of darkness took notice of his lackey's mark of liquid fear but has long before this transgression some time ago decided to not waste energy or time being upset over the mans' pathetic bodily functions and inability to control them in times of distress. He waves his hand, motioning his awareness and for it to be taken care of. 'Yes, apparently Sunblast wasn't in the Jar when she returned home,'
He says in a much calmer tone, the rage released from his system. His serpentine tongue licks his fangs, a dark, somber chuckle making it's way to any nearby entity's hearing within the local surroundings. His gaze slowly and carefully saunters it's way back to the pathetic young scientist, his head tilted in a slightly amused manner, one hand behind his back aimlessly. "He must be located, can you manage to perform this task, Dr?'

It was with great certainty and purpose the question was enunciated in such a manner, his freely visible hand subtly extending the index finger to prick his thumb with knowing force, a single drop of blood hitting the pristine flooring. beneath him.

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[Beleth]

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Dr. Flug

“Sunblast?? I could have sworn I dealt with that stupid nusiance! My plan the last time was infallible!” Flug was met with both shame and ever continous fear towards the dark lord. Once he started, he never let up, did he? It most certainly kept a particular ...vibe … within the manner. Watching the green blood ooze from his claw-tips to the ground with such ease most definitely confirmed it.

The scientist searched his immediate surroundings for something to cover the stain before pathetically crossing his legs over the other. A breeze casually passed, amplifying the disgust that resonated within the evil scientist. He, an evil doctor, working in one of the most REPUTABLE villain lairs and he just let himself go over his NEW pants in FRONT of his everblooming lord of all evil.

Whether he wanted to finish Sunblast with his collection of rays back at the lab or simply lock him back up in a jar and just keep him within the undergrounds quickly became one of Flug’s two most tempting options. The paperbag around the doctor’s head stiffened, indicating his slow but sure agitation at the news of the escaped hero. “Consider it done, Lord Black Hat. Sunblast will be out of the city and into your evil claws in no time. U..unless Pheonumbra wants him back...that is.”

Flug noted the gesture to get changed and considered that his first order of business. He arose, silently inhaling the last of his dignity and saluted the demon. “Right… after...I change….again.”

With a sheepish nod, the scientist excused himself -- more so in attempt to recollect himself rather than actual curtsey -- and made way towards his laboratory where all of his bedroom necessities laid including wardrobe, toothbrush, toothpaste and a stick of deodorant.

Reaching for the wooden cabinets, a small stir aroused from the corner of his workplace, followed by flutters.

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[Kirbyboo]

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The Writer

They felt the terrifying, shivering, paradoxical warmth and cold of the shadow consuming the length of their tail and leg, shivering at the conflicting sensations. Their voice hitching to a squeak and the volume and rapidness of their shivering was now increased to the point they were shaking like a cat just out of water, their heart caught in their throat as they felt the descent of their body towards the floors. They open their eyes to realize they were being upheld by a shadow, a slight wash of relief filling their knotted stomach. Their eyes darted to the doors, their attention then returned to the demon holding the novel and they feel their heart return to their throat, knotting it.

Don't say you're the author, don't say it's you act calm and stupid even
Their ears catch the phrase 'Have some explaining to do' and the sound of pattering to the floorboards betrays the ears of the fellow cafe members, oh fuck this is bad. They can't reveal their identity but he wants to know-wait did I just piss my pants in front of the Radio Demon, the being who could kill me or ruin me, oh my soul this is humiliating. Act as calm as you can Ace, don't say a single word.

Their pupils if anyone were able see in the darkness were the tiniest pin-prick needle sized dots, shaking with their tail and any part of them that was visibly shaking, wet or otherwise. Their breathing was trying to restrain height in sound, but was labored with anticipation of something horrific to come, heavy but rapid. They try to avoid eye contact with the Stag-seeming demonic entity of suffering, attempting to feign ignorance.

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[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

Body fluids. A surefire sign of guilt, if any.


Alastor’s furry brows rose past mid-ears, a hand clutching his mic further.


“Boss, I think I found--” The radio demon jutted the butt of the entity, shutting it up. He cleared his throat, ignoring the wafting distinct stench of fear and urine.


The rest of the coffee shop was ...reluctant to so much as admit a peep, the only sound breaking the silence was glass as the cup clanked against the store plate. Some other person withheld a cough and that was it. Even the demon roaches weren’t taking advantage of the distracted state to collect some food of their own.


“Should I call the police?” One whispered to the other.


The one that was being addressed was mid nod before pausing, the stag demon just inches between them and crouched never leaving focus of the writer themself. “Now isn’t this lovely? Attempting to assist one another in hell, are we?” Alastor’s eyes closed into a half smile, tapping his microphone twice into the ground. As if some petty magic trick, the first speaker combusted into powdery dust while tendrils arose from around the second’s chair and swallowed him whole into the ground.


“Anyone else feeling rather heroic today?” Silence that indicated otherwise from whimpers of fear and terror prodded the Radio Demon to continue. “Now then! I asked once and will not be doing so again! It seems like one of you know the answer!” He pivoted, reverting his full attention back on The Writer. “You there! You with your book bag and school supplies you, where do you think you are!?~ Ahahahahah…~” Alastor’s bemused grin continued to creep over himself before partially referring to the rest of the crowd. “Since no one is willing to answer a question when they hear one, I suppose now would be onto the back up component of my plan!”


A tendril rose up and roped itself around the writer’s feet, hoisting them upside down. Alastor perused over to the smaller demon, poking their nose while addressing them rather quietly. “We are going to be starting with you, my dear. I wouldn’t squirm if I were you, these things are QUITE fragile.” Alastor then faced the audience for one last time, lowering himself into a bow. “As for the REST of you. You all seem in need of DESPERATE redemption. Do yourself a favor and stop by the Hazbin Hotel!~” The shadow unraveled itself from the doorframe, allowing the stag demon and his new hostage to leave the premises safely.

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[Kirbyboo]

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Lord Black Hat

Black Hat's gaze flickers over to see Flug attend to his hygienic needs, a slight nod of approval before he sees the young man sulk to his room, his lip curled into a slight smile as he sees the anguish on his paper-bag hidden expression. He stretches his claws and arms, smoothing over any foreign creases or imperfections on his coat before stalking back to his office, the sound of his footsteps ringing gently but forbodingly throughout the manner.

"5.0.5, Be sure to have refreshments ready for the lady Pheonumbra when she arrives.,' He growls out his barked order to the cowardice plump bear-creature, his had snapping towards his general direction with a loud and pronounced snap. He takes certain care to make sure he could see the expression on the fuzzy mammals' face, his index and middle claw gently resting on and tapping his coat to indicate an impatience about him.

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[Kirbyboo]

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The Writer

Any, and all sense of security of safety was swept away with the demon to the floorboards, their heart pounding in their chest and their arms shaking. Did-did he just? They've heard of the Radio Demon's power but NEVER before did they witness such a state of terror in their LIFE. Their mind was calculating means of escape-only for their view of the world, quiet literally to be turned upside down. On a scale of 1-10 how dead were they? They felt their body shaking-oh shit movement could trigger the tendrils to-oh ok nope their body went limp as a helpless fainted goat, the only movement was their strained, anxious breathing. The second the door opened as many demons as they could ran out of the facility, some leaving their purses and belongings simply wanting to get AWAY from The Radio Demon. One guy was screaming like a helpless child out of fear and relief of escape from the constrictive nature of their surroundings.

"I-I-P-P-Pl-Plea-Please d-do-don't kill m-me M-M-Mr. R-Radio D-Demon, S-Sir' Their voice was trapped, hiding in their windpipe, squeaked out with tears rolling down their cheeks-this was it this is how they ceased existence, by the fates' designs. Their teeth chattered slightly as their fangs tap-danced in their mouth for terror, the tip of their tail wrapped into a ball while vibrating with the ferocity of a dryer or car engine.

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[Beleth]

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Dr. Flug

“Bwuah?” 5.0.5 inquired. It took the bear a few seconds to realize just who had been addressing him and about what. Hairs on the creation’s artificial fur stood upright and still, giving the image of an actually intimidating creature in place of the plush mammal. He nodded, scrambling past the demon two care-bear paws not even closely covering his face as he made his way to the kitchen.

Upon entering, a small boy about nine years had been fumbling invasively through the fridge. Tip toes acting as a hoist, small fragile hands reach for the hidden cookie jar Flug has been working desperately to keep from 5.0.5 and Demencia.


The doors swung shut with a profuse force, notifying the intruder that he was caught. He peered over at the source of the noise, lowering himself to the flats of his bare feet. Between all bare black clothes with the Black Hat Manor symbol on the sleeve and lack of shoes, this must have belonged to Flug. His lips pulled back into a sickeningly sweet smile, making his way over to the bear to offer the jar of cookies as a peace making. “Saved tha’ las’ one fer ye, lad. Won’t say nufin’ if you won’t. Jus’ wanted t’bring a treat to me mate.”


5.0.5’s eyes widened, immediately bolting out of the kitchen. The manor carried the sound of his petrified echoes, rushing straight for Flug’s laboratory. He stopped short of the doors. Tops of the wooden frames had been melting into one another, nearby electrical appliances at an odd 40 degree angles.


The boy followed close behind, his eyes dancing from the now aware bear to the doors that were now being forcibly pried.

“I...it’s escaped…! Everyone take cover and--” Flug thrashed against the doors to the laboratory to exit, his breath immediately swallowing back into his esophagus. “Ruufl. H...hello… listen I can explain…-”

“No need, Mistah Doctah Sah. I can see I’ve been bamboozled wif promises t’be set free.” Ruufl rocked his feet with a carefree roll of his eyes. “Should’a known bettah than ta be promised tha soul of Mistah Blackie ‘imself, innit? Guess I gots to be takin’ fings into me own hands, yeah?”

“N...not so loud! If Demencia or Lord Black Hat himself hears you--” Flug stammered helplessly. This was supposed to be a secret, hell even a SURPRISE for once the whole Sunblast situation was over. Nothing like gifting an unstable source of energy to a man who loves power.

“Then it’ll be perfect, won’t it?” Ruufl grinned. “By the by.” He revealed a small tray of the refreshments he overheard Black Hat requesting. Stepping to the bear, he passed the items. “Best not keep yer boss man waitin, ey?”

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[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

Watching the members of hell flee and thrash out of the coffee shop brought a rather pleasant sensation to Alastor’s stag-like ears.


It sung a specific tune no other would understand, and the prey entangled in his tendril was no exception.


“Damn lucky you’re not suitable for lunch.” The voice trickled from the microphone that the Radio Demon held so cherishedly. “Say, Al, what’re you planning with this one? They look the least harmless of all! I thought you would’ve gone for one of the bigger baddies like that business demon that’s been trying to run you out for the past--” It was silenced with a few thuds against its bottom half.


Alastor flickered a bemused smirk in the writer’s direction, keeping them a solid foot in front of them to ensure they would no possible way be escaping his sight. “So you already know who I am!~ Excellent! It seems like the Lucifer Education Foundation is coming along smoothly ever since I interfered~” The Radio Demon withheld his upright position, swooping the ends of his glove against the tips of their hair. The way it all fell over into a beautifully chaotic arrangement was just one of the few tidbits that made this even more fun.


The Radio Demon made his way toward a rather especially omnious building that resembled a radio station. “I suppose then introductions are no longer necessary, I will get to the point.” The book resurface between his fingers from the depths of his stripped coat, pausing for a moment. He leaned forward, waving the novel inches from their face. “You wouldn’t happen to know who wrote this, would you?”

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[Kirbyboo]

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The Writer

Their eyes see the novel, occasionally taking a cursory glance towards the station and around their vicinity, whimpering. They have to think, they don't want their identity to be known by the public...but they get the inkling feeling he's quiet aware of their relationship to the article of literature his demonic fingers are carefully procuring. They take one more glance around, then back up at the demon before them letting out a muffled and terrified squeak, nodding silently.

"I-I do, B-But they want their identity t-to uh, not be known by the public with specific reasons s-so maybe is it a-at all possible if I can relinquish the information in private?..A-and maybe g-get uh' Their pale cheeks glow a soft sky blue in blush, eyes avoiding as much direct contact with his ominous, soul peering bloody orbs as much as non-humanly possibly, a tiny cough caught in the back of their throat. "I-I c-could get c-c-cleaned?'

Their necktie's claws sheathe, slowly retracting form the sanctuary of it's stitching and the eye curiously opening, glancing to the wearer and their current state of being. "Really? Again?' His echoed voice remarks, dulcet tones dripping with a slight hint of amusement. They glance down at the tie and huff an indignant breath of annoyance.

"Kindly shut the fuck up,' They say between their teeth to the garment, their cheeks growing brighter in hue with the inflection of haste in their voice, trying to quiet the tie. They glanced up at the taller entity, as if hoping he didn't catch the article's remark.

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[Kirbyboo]

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Lord Black Hat

The lordship went to return with his task beforehand of making certain his time slots were filled accordingly and organized, when once more his peace and quiet before even being able to return to his chair was interrupted. He would as per usual have went to investigate via shadowy transport but he felt his presence was to be made aware of with meaning. He proceeds to stalk towards the interruption, shoulders hunched with his hands behind his back in an entangled mess of claws embracing the others and eyes narrowing to the point you can barely see their sickly, revolting green against the significantly contrasting black of his figure.

He enters the room with silence, far more menacing than the loud and boisterous entrance he had last time. Oh no, he had a far worse idea. He would stand there, observing the fiasco with purpose, and watch his lackey's dig their graves further. He wanted to see their terror when they realize he was in the shadows, and saw what a mess they were creating. He would not have the wool pulled over him in this instance-

What was that he spotted? A Child? Vermin? In his lair? Oh no this wouldn't do. No not at all.
He watches the scene before him, waiting for his presence to be made aware, his sharp, poking, hungry grin shining in his shadow-hidden corner. He would sit. And wait. Like a true predator.

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[Beleth]

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The Radio Demon

“Boss, look, they’re panicking. I think we found our—” The microphone was clasped between Alastor’s hands. Palms now clasped to one another, hoodoo scriptures circling his hands before fluttering to the writer.


The Radio Demon didn’t say anything else. Instead, he directed the tendril to carry the hostage towards the radio station. No way they were going to make it THAT easy. There was most certainly more information that they can offer that they were withholding. The captive requested for them to speak in private and to be able to … clean up. Alastor withheld a grimace, taking a brief moment to acknowledge what they were referring to.


“...Sure, darling.” The radio static in the demon’s voice grew more prominent, nowhere reflecting his oddly jubilant state. He led them into the building and straight into the front entrance painted in red. The immediate space was far too much space for even the most claustrophic types with the only exception being a coffee table and a couple of matching metallic chairs.


Aligning their surroundings were four walls, each with posters of broadways of all varieties ranging from heartfelt to downright dark. Atop of each said poster was a quote from the characters, the pattern following all the way to the elevator.


As if by command, the bell announcing the elevator’s arrival dinged. Doors glowing with an eerie red, the tops of the doors resembling a familiar radio dial knob. Alastor stepped in first then turned around, grabbing the writer by their shirt collar himself, the tendril disappearing.


“For your sake, Darling, don’t try anything smart.”

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[Kirbyboo]

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The Writer

Found our? They tilt their head to the microphone, the tie's interruption of conversation strangely replacing their fear with momentary annoyance, calming their nerves in some form or other. They felt their body being unwillingly brought towards the radio station, but they dare not resist or try to escape. They've seen horror movies and read many a novel, they know damn certain what would happen if they were to even attempt it. They only resign themself to their fate, awaiting what was inside and shivering visibly and clearly.

Upon their arrival into the station, their eyes wander and study their surroundings, though their predicament was less than amicable they did admire the decorative choices the Stag-demon offered in his abode.

"Little Shop Of Horrors, loved watching that with my mom,' They muttered as their neck crooned softly about to scan their environment. Whence the tendril deposited them into an upright position there was a soft sight of relief while holding heir head, blood rushing to it from how fast they were placed down. They hold their bag to make certain no papers tried to stray or escape from the holding area of the compartment they were in, only to feel the claws of their captor on their shirt folds, eyes wide for a moment and a shiver running down their spine. The sound of another frightened squeak was the rewarded reaction to the Radio Demons' deer-like ears, The Writer nodding furiously and following him onto the elevator.

"N-No No sir I won't I promise!' Their tail salutes, their posture upright, stiff and painfully tense as they look into his eyes. Their tie glances to the microphone, claws gently tapping against the wearer's naval from which it was resting upon, but dare not say a word. He simply observes the situation and surroundings, it was composed and refined, had a vintage atmosphere about the place.

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[Beleth]

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The Demons and the Scientist

“Bwah…” 5.0.5 relucantly accepted the tray, looking at Flug as if to question just what exactly was going on. They were being cornered by a CHILD, even the dullest of the bunch could pick that up. Still, how exactly baffled the bear.


“I’ll explain in just a second, just help me get him under control before the others find out..!” Flug had a bad feeling. An incredibly bad feeling. But something that rested within him prodded that if he did not fix his mess soon, the scientist was going to be having more than a ‘bad’ time.

The paper-bag nerd rose a net ray gun, aiming it at the child. “Ruufls, you have one last chance to return back to the lab quietly b..before…!”

“‘Fore wut, doc? ‘Fore tha big baddie fine out? Tha’ what yer afraid of?” Ruufl’s indulged himself into a grin. There was another presence here. A fellow demonic presence. Pupils darted around to find the source of lurker.

Shadows, all shadows.

So that’s what he was dealing with. Maybe doing a bit of homework before popping into this reality was a better plan than going … without a plan. The other so-feared demons were all brawn and no brain. Almost made fighting the baddies pathetically easy!

But this one, this one was a little more tricky.

“Trust me. You do NOT want to get involved with Lord Black Hat. H..he’s terrifying and powerful and and….”

“...Nufin’ you told me ‘fore, lad.” Ruufl rocked on his heels once more, hands behind his back. “‘F I didn’t know no bettah, you woulda said you can conquer ‘em if yew really wanted to! Now yer singin’ a different tune, proposin’ t’be tha goodie here. Propah sick if ye ask me!” He paused, a few ideas bouncing around in his head. “Not ta mention tha angel yer keepin’ from ‘em. Looks like yew’ve been around ‘er so long she’s beginnin’ ta rub off’yew. Bloody Sunblast bloke, no less! Ain’t ‘e the lad yew lot’re fightin’ about?”


Flug’s hand shook as the child rambled on. “N...none of that is true and you know it! She has connections to Sunblast and I intended to find out his whereabouts and weaknesses!” Fuck it, he couldn’t waste anymore time with this kid, not with the seconds ticking so quickly. “5.0.5, make sure that Lord Black Hat isn’t disturbed. This’ll be over quickly.”

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