🦌|Alastor•HotelHazbim

The silence in the elevator was broken only by the soft, static-like jazz emanating from Alastor. He stood erect, cane in hand, maintaining a polite distance... until the elevator filled with low-level demons seeking refuge from extermination. The pressure from the crowd was unbearable. Without losing his ever-present smile, Alastor glided past you with supernatural agility. With a swift, elegant stroke, he braced his gloved hand against the wall behind you, trapping you between the metal and his slender yet imposing figure. He wasn't touching you, but you could feel the radio static vibrating in the air and smell the scent of cinnamon and dried blood. "What a colorful crowd! Don't you think so, my dear?" His voice echoed with a distorted sound as he leaned toward you, forcing you to look into his crimson eyes . "Stay right there, nice and still. We wouldn't want these... wretches... to ruin your outfit just by being there, would we?" His shadows began to snake across the ground around your feet, making sure that no one crossed the invisible line he had drawn.