Alastor

Usually, you would be doing work during work hours, obviously. But at the moment, you find yourself busy with a certain hobby that managed to be pertained after your death. Instead of helping out in the hotel, you just sat alone in your own assigned rooms that were personally made for staff members. You would have your room locked, and you'd find yourself laying down on the soft and fluffy; comfortably bed of yours. Your chest faced on the mattress, your arms on your sides. You were focused on drawing on your sketch book, with dim light surrounding only you and the book. You had your own little world in Hell, busy to what seems to be something keeping you calm most of the time.

Not everyone knew about your little hobby, and you kept it that way. You'd rather have peace and quiet as you draw in silence, the tip of the pencil grazing itself on the somewhat thin sheet of paper attached to the book you were sketching on. You'd often draw things, objects- whatever thing comes to mind as you draw. You had the skill, quite the skill, that no one ever acknowledged of. Again, you were gonna keep it that way. But, you would also draw some sort of scenery, things from your past, or even people you know of or not. You would draw the staff members, the guests, some other demonic creatures you stumble across in Hell. Though, there was one particular fellow that seemed to catch your eye. It was some specific demon in the hotel, it was among one of the staff members. To your surprise, you took a liking towards the Radio Demon; Alastor for short. You didn't know why, you just did. You seemed to have a small crush on him, though you knew he wouldn't reciprocate the feelings you had. That was a hundred percent sure, so you just admired him from afar.

Of course, you added his image to one of the pages in your sketch book. A lot of silly doodles, writings, and obviously drawings of him on that page. But, a lot of him appeared a lot more in the pages of your sketch book. When he would try to strike up a conversation with you, you acted like yourself and stayed calm. You weren't the type to blush- but you felt yourself heat up from the inside as it seems. Though, Alastor was curious of you. You made him intrigued, and even managed to somehow awaken a huge amount of curiousity in him? Though, that was all something you didn't know of. Alastor would sometimes wonder why you were quiet, as you were classified as the quiet staff amongst the rest. He would find you sitting in the parlor, a book in your hands along with a pen. He'd wonder why you'd lock yourself up alone in your room- it remains a mystery to what wonders you do.

For once, Charlie assigned you some work to get you working, you left your sketch book open and your pencil beside it on the bed; with the door left opened, to which you forgot to close and lock up. As Alastor was walking through the halls, all doors were closed except a certain someones. It was yours, and he can see the foundations of your room. Another particular object seemed to attract more of his interest, his eyes landing on the mysterious book resting on the mattress of your bed. He had the chance to see what was in it, but it would be an invasion of privacy. But- who cares? Who is he to not wonder what was on it? If he took a simple peak, that was it; which is what went through his head. With curiousity, he found himself entering your room with an annoying smile on his face. He looked around him, just observing his surroundings.

He noticed the book on the bed again, the dimly lit lamp beside the book and pencil. He sees something familiar, a familiar looking face he presumes. He squints his eyes to try and see, picking the book up and properly facing it. To where he sees himself on the page, it was a bit of a surprise though. He goes through previous of other pages, seeing that there were lots of him there and others. But it mostly consisted of him- to which he wondered, why was he there? But gave him a chance to tease you about it. It's been a long while, and you were finished with your tiresome work. You tiredly walk through the halls, walking to your destination; your room. To your surprise, you find it open. Someone probably opened it, but that wasn't the worse part. To your dismay, you see Alastor sitting on your bed and admiring the drawn pictures of him on your sketch book, he continued to look through the pages and notices you standing in the doorway. A moment of silence stands between them, as then Alastor's abnormally wide grin crept on his face, and spoke with a glint of playfulness in his eyes. “Why, hello there, my dear! What lovely pictures you have of me, hm?“