Just a Washed Up Bartender Now

Yeah? What's your poison?// RP blog for Husk from Hazbin Hotel. Wasn't having much luck with discord servers so let's try this instead. Mod's an adult. //

[huskcomplains]

Rules / About

Don't try controlling my character, don't be a dick ooc, keep racism, ableism, and sexism far away from me. Y'know, the usual.

Blog is run by an adult. I'm in my 30s. Keep that in mind before interacting.

I tend to go overboard in my replies, usually between 3 and 8 paragraphs per. You don't have to match my length, but I will not bother continuing the RP if you give me less than one.

I'm cool with shipping, but I only ship with natural chemistry. Obviously I'm not gonna ship with underage characters.

Not all interactions have to be friendly! I am fine with conflict, I am fine with violent fighting scenes. Just keep things fair. Unless he's up against someone clearly more powerful than him, we can either discuss how things go before hand or use a dice rolling mechanic to decide outcomes.

I'm probably not gonna write out detailed smut scenes. If it comes to that, we'll need to fade to black. HOWEVER. I don't promise this blog will stay safe for minors.

Feel free to message me to chat, discuss plot points or ideas, or ask questions! You can either message me here or on discord, but please be 18 or older if you decide to contact me.

OCs welcome just as much as canon characters. Doubles are fine. I'm sure Husk is used to talking to himself anyway.

About Husk

Died at the ripe old age of 75. His virility was partially restored when he ended up in Hell, but he still has aching joints. This is Hell after all!

Wasn't a fan of cats or dogs in life. Especially hated cats.

Hates being catlike now, hates the purring the most.

Not a fan of flying. Not because he's afraid of heights, but because it feels unnatural.

Has always loved magic, that hasn't changed. He just doesn't really talk about it now. Now it's more of a fighting style than a hobby.

Genderblind, not shy about sex if enough booze is involved, but he's a lot more stubborn about romance.

Loves to cuddle. So much. Not that you'll get him to admit that, though.

Hopefully Charlie doesn't expect to make profit with the bar, he drinks a good deal of the stock himself.

Decent at giving advice, mostly due to existing for 130 years. He's seen just about everything.

Exists in the current, up to date timeline (currently up until the end of season 2). But if your muse exists before then, I can adjust.

About Me

30s, she/her, married and gay. A catmom. Reply frequency varies between five in a day and once a week, depending on how much mental energy I have :)

I can't code for shiiit. Don't expect anything fancy here.

[miwachan2]

Got bored so I made my own expression meme :3

[hellaversepolls]

Hellaverse Tumblr Sexyman (Final Round, Final Match)

Voter rules and other polls on pinned post

Reminder: "Tumblr Sexyman" is not the same as "Most Fuckable", we already did that one. Please read the pinned post for examples.

Choose

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel)

Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

Voting ended onMar 3

Propaganda for Alastor:

"He’s the original Hazbin tumblr sexyman!

Also, sexuality isn’t the only important part of being a tumblr sexyman, and Alastor has the all the classic vibes, personality, and looks of a tumblr sexyman! So don’t let him being an ace in the hole stop you from voting for him!" (Submitted by anonymous)

Propaganda for Lucifer:

"He's literally Da Devil™ from Da Bible™

Also he's literally like "My Wife :D!" Any chance he gets, so" (Submitted by imgaeyay)

Propaganda for Vox:

"Sexy TV Man, HIS HANDS!!" (Submitted by anonymous)

"I would literally never sub to a man but God DAMN would I call that man daddy-" (Submitted by anonymous)

"HAIL VOX POPULI" (Submitted by anonymous)

[voxteknology]

Despite everything, I STILL reign supreme!!! A sincere thank you to all who never lost faith in me. And remember, VOTE VOX! Trust ME with your popularity polls!

. . . @some-acehole @l-posting

I hope the other contestants enjoy their participation awards! Oh, who am I kidding? It’s not like they’re making a public appearance anytime soon!

[l-posting]

"Haha! Don't get too excited, there are still five days for things to turn around! Try not to... lose your head if you don't win again!"

[huskcomplains]

//I'll get to more replies I owe soon I promise, things have been busy rip

[huskcomplains]

@broadcasting-screams-since-33

A sort of indignant dread settled over Husk, chilling him. "Now I never said I was bored! You can find someone else to be your fuckin' pack mule, I'm busy."

He'd turned back to his bottles, pretending to be very busy rearranging them by size. Maybe if he didn't look at Alastor for long enough, he'd go away. Don't get him wrong; smuggling would be easy for a guy with his particular set of skills, but it was a lot of work with no payoff.

[huskcomplains]

He was still talking! Still bluffing. A deep chuckle rumbled in Husk's chest as he slowly retracted his hand, digits wrapping around a bar of the cage, instead.

"Suit yourself! Ain't no skin off my fuckin' back. Long as I know you're in here, and not out there causing problems in my casino, I couldn't care less where you choose to rot."

Gambe wasn't the only one bluffing tonight. Husk gave the hefty cage a hefty shove, and it began to spin. A decorative metal ball hanging from its own chain attached to the chain holding the cage bounced along the top of the cage, vaguely resembling the sound of a roulette table. "Music to my ears! Hahah!" Husk cackled as he turned to leave.

[onthebl1nk]

The floor starts to turn and Gamble reacts instinctively, taking to the air with a scream of frustration so loud that even he feels the reverb in his skull. “Wait!”

A plea pitches his voice up before he can school it back into his usual brassy defiance, desperation coloring his tone when he realizes he is about to be left alone in this fresh Hell. He grips a bar in his toes again and grasps another above his head, trying to tilt the cage as it spins.

Too heavy. “Fuck, man!”

Panic sluices through him like vertigo and suddenly Husk’s price seems almost worth it. “I’ll do it for free!”

Almost.

“I’ll rig your slots, load your dice! You’ll get it all back plus interest!”

[huskcomplains]

He'd paused when he was asked to wait, an ear perking and twitching at the mention of one of Husk's favorite words; free.

"Now, that's more like it!" He was back beside the cage in an instant. "A tune I can get behind." He reached out and grabbed a bar of the spinning cage, stopping it abruptly. "And just so we're clear..."

A long tail, ending with feathers more befitting of some ancient bird than a cat, lazily swiped from the top of the overlord's head, down to his feet, leaving behind empty air as it went, until he'd disappeared entirely.

"Full transparency!" Added the grinning maw that was suddenly right next to Gamble's head, on the other side of the bars. "I may not own your soul, but you're still under contract. Until every last cent of your debt, plus interest, has been made back, you belong to me."

The rest of Husk began to reappear, eyes first, extended hand last. "Do we have a deal?"

[huskcomplains]

Husk's eyes studied his prisoner closely as he spoke. He was a man who could appreciate, even respect, a good poker face. His fear was evident, but the way he was keeping it together was almost commendable.

And look at that! The guy knew his audience, too. There were many things that Husk couldn't resist; booze, a pretty face, the sound of a pair of dice bouncing across a table ...

And a bet stacked heavily in his own favor.

The truth was, he didn't own the bird's soul just yet. Contracts, much like most other things in Hell, took two to tango. Husk didn't love that Gamble seemed to be reading him just as clearly as he was being read, but he was right. He did have something that Husk wanted. He didn't have a machine guy, and this little thorn in his side knew his stuff. Not to mention, Husk mused, as he watched the bird dangle from the roof of his cage, free entertainment! It was a win/win.

"Alright. How about a deal? You, me, blackjack. You win? You walk out of here a free bird, debts cleared. The house wins? I get your soul, and you work for me. Refuse the offer? Spend the rest of your miserable life right where you are."

Husk reached his hand in through the bars, in an offered handshake that would seal their temporary contract if Gamble accepted his terms. The toothy grin, and the way those golden eyes burned into him through the bars told him it would be unwise to do anything stupid in his current situation.

[onthebl1nk]

“Always the fucking souls with you guys.” Were the situation different, Gamble would sound bored. As it stands, he doesn’t even know how this damn cage opens, and the longer he is trapped the more his feathers feel too hot. “Being an overlord must get old after a while.”

With a U-shaped arc he drops to the bottom, and notes that it rattles but doesn’t yield to his weight when he touches down. Likely one solid piece, which means the latch or other mechanism keeping it closed must be on the underside.

Smart. Nothing he can reach from within.

Stretching his beak while his wings hook over his shoulders, he considers the merits of biting the other demon’s thumb right off his extended hand. He’s done it before — in Husk’s casino, even, where the blood’s still probably dried on the underside of one of his roulette tables.

Ultimately the engineer decides against it; losing a finger would only make his captor less willing to talk, and words are the only currency he has in spades right now. He only has one soul, after all, and there’s a reason he can’t pay off his debts even if he has been beating the house elsewhere.

“Free room and board in nice digs like these for the rest of my afterlife, huh?” He gestures around the opulent living room, allowing Husk’s own interior decorating to speak for itself. “I don’t know how long you’ve been collecting other idiots’ souls for, but I think you’ve forgotten how shitty it is out there for the rest of us. Maybe I’ll like it here.”

[huskcomplains]

He was still talking! Still bluffing. A deep chuckle rumbled in Husk's chest as he slowly retracted his hand, digits wrapping around a bar of the cage, instead.

"Suit yourself! Ain't no skin off my fuckin' back. Long as I know you're in here, and not out there causing problems in my casino, I couldn't care less where you choose to rot."

Gambe wasn't the only one bluffing tonight. Husk gave the hefty cage a hefty shove, and it began to spin. A decorative metal ball hanging from its own chain attached to the chain holding the cage bounced along the top of the cage, vaguely resembling the sound of a roulette table. "Music to my ears! Hahah!" Husk cackled as he turned to leave.

[huskcomplains]

Slow day at the bar... no one would notice if he just, slipped away back to his room and drank himself into a coma, right...?

// Anyone wanna write? Finding folks to rp with in this fandom is proving more difficult than I was expecting it to be ha.

[broadcasting-screams-since-33]

"Why the long face, Husker? Aren't you glad to be surrounded by your beloved bottles? Or do you miss than lanky fellow so much it has robbed you of your will to drink?"

[huskcomplains]

At the sudden arrival of the unexpected guest, Husk subconsciously leaned away from him without even realizing he was doing it. The Radio Demon just had that effect on people.

"It ain't got nothin' to do with that." It had everything to do with that. To prove he didn't have a drinking problem, he was damn good at it in fact, he swiped another bottle from under the bar and popped the top with his thumb claw.

"I'm just fuckin' sick and tired of standin' here like a moron when there ain't even anybody here. Like I don't have anything better to do? Bullshit." He upended the bottle and began to chug. Alcohol didn't affect him the same way it did when he was alive, but the taste was the same. Tasted like comfort.

[l-posting]

Lucifer comes walking back into the hotel twitching with agitation but trying his best not to look annoyed. He can't give Alastor the satisfaction of seeing him unhappy. Hell is on fire again, but that's not the only thing irritating him.

The power play going on at the sins meeting was insane. Most of the sins were happy to see him again, but Lucifer can tell Satan wants to keep running the show. Lucifer tried his best to stand his ground, but he has come out of the meeting with one assignment: a business trip and a guest appearance at a festival! He's a god damn figurehead! After all his preparation and nervousness, his only responsibility is corporate gift giving!! He tiredly orders a cup of tea.

[huskcomplains]

The bartender leaned over the bar, fixing Lucifer with a look.

"I know you didn't just sit down at my bar and order tea." A steaming pot of fresh coffee was held up in front of Lucifer's face. Its contents sloshed around inside as he shook it a little.

"Got coffee, though. I haven't even spiked it yet." His toothy grin hints at being proud about that. Husk got the feeling that ol' Lu could use a bartender to talk to. And hell, after everything the guy had done for all of them, he deserved at least that.

[l-posting]

Lucifer rests his chin in his hand and raises his eyebrows. Although irritable, his voice is more inquisitive than angry. He doesn't want to take out his feelings on an innocent party. "You can do coffee at a bar but not tea?"

[huskcomplains]

"Yup! That's what I said. Mmmmwell..." Husk reached under the bar and pulled out a bottle of sweet tea, and plopped it atop the bar in front of the king of hell.

"Got this shit. It's usually just used as a mixer around here, but if you're into that, have at it." A short pause. "You uh, wanna talk about... this?" Husk asked, gesturing with a hand to Lucifer's entirety. He looked exhausted and miserable, all in one.

[huskcomplains]

"Not weird at all, Tweetybird! Not. At. All."

The silhouetted figure in the doorway answered the question that hadn't necessarily been directed at himself. Golden eyes fixed on the caged bird, glowing bright and ominous even in the dimly lit room.

"The way I see it…" He kicked the door closed behind him as he stepped into the room, the place flooding with light with a snap of his fingers. "Death's easy! The easy way out." Husk took his time making his way across the room as he spoke. It was a nice room! It was his room. His living room, to be precise. Tall golden-hued walls adorned with classy paintings and photographs and red velvet curtains. A fireplace crackled quietly along one wall, the fire seemingly spurred to life along with the lights. Plush chairs and couches littered the place, it was obvious the overloard was used to having guests over. The room's centerpiece was a large black marble table. His poker table. Some would call this space tacky. Husk called it comfortable.

And, of course, who could forget his newest addition? The large, fancy birdcage hanging from the ceiling. It glinted gold, but was made from a far stronger material than that. Husk had reached it now, grinning at the man held inside it. Normally, those who owed a debt to Husk or his casino ended up working there. Indefinitely. Whether it was on the floor or back stage, Husk always had a healthy number of workers to keep his casino running smoothly.

But Gamble? The man inside the cage? He'd racked up quite the debt and Husk's blood pressure. In other words, he'd done perhaps the worst thing you could do in Hell; he'd pissed off an overlord. Husk had other, special plans for him.

"So if I were to take a guess, I'd say you're afraid because, just like with this cage, no death means no escape." A long claw, resembling the talon of some terrible beast rather than a cat claw, click-clacked across the bars of Gamble's prison. His already gravely voice dipped so low it sounded more like a growl.

"There are things in Hell far worse than death. You'll be paying your debts, Tweetybird. One way or another, I'll get what I'm owed."

[onthebl1nk]

The sudden burst of life elicits a startled squawk and frenetic rustle of feathers as Gamble darts for cover that isn’t there. His toes close around one bar at the edge of his prison farthest from the overlord, and the material is smooth enough that he slides a little before his grip stabilizes. New and probably made specifically to hold someone like him, which means that all this is about more than just money.

That is, if the way Husk is eyeing him like a house cat calculating the proper trajectory for the final pounce hadn’t clued him in already.

“Isn’t this a little excessive, Tux?”

Picking his way up the curved top of the cage, the avian sinner hooks his own claws into place and dangles upside down. Playing at nonchalance isn’t likely to fool the man who calls bluffs for a living, but now that he — sort of — knows where he is, the act comes easier to Gamble. He’s spent enough time at Husk’s blackjack table to hear plenty about the other demon, and from what he can tell the man isn’t totally unreasonable. “I know I ain’t the only asshole counting cards out there. You throw all of them in a cage, too?”

He tilts slightly forward then relaxes his hold, letting gravity swing his body like a pendulum while he tries to discern the type of metal under his feet. The points of his nails don’t leave indentations and so the gold appears to be decorative, but it lacks the strange warmth of angelic steel … “Or am I just that special?”

It’s precisely that kind of lip that landed him in this situation in the first place and he knows it, but the impulse has already been indulged and he can’t take it back now. Instead, he tries to sell it with an ingratiating smile that makes his eyes glint like polished hematite, as if this is old friends sharing a joke. “Or maybe you know there’s something I can do for you that they can’t? Something that kept you from just busting in my kneecaps and calling it a day.”

Tilting his head, his third eyelids blink slowly despite the tremor in his primaries. “How about we talk about it over cards?”

[huskcomplains]

Husk's eyes studied his prisoner closely as he spoke. He was a man who could appreciate, even respect, a good poker face. His fear was evident, but the way he was keeping it together was almost commendable.

And look at that! The guy knew his audience, too. There were many things that Husk couldn't resist; booze, a pretty face, the sound of a pair of dice bouncing across a table ...

And a bet stacked heavily in his own favor.

The truth was, he didn't own the bird's soul just yet. Contracts, much like most other things in Hell, took two to tango. Husk didn't love that Gamble seemed to be reading him just as clearly as he was being read, but he was right. He did have something that Husk wanted. He didn't have a machine guy, and this little thorn in his side knew his stuff. Not to mention, Husk mused, as he watched the bird dangle from the roof of his cage, free entertainment! It was a win/win.

"Alright. How about a deal? You, me, blackjack. You win? You walk out of here a free bird, debts cleared. The house wins? I get your soul, and you work for me. Refuse the offer? Spend the rest of your miserable life right where you are."

Husk reached his hand in through the bars, in an offered handshake that would seal their temporary contract if Gamble accepted his terms. The toothy grin, and the way those golden eyes burned into him through the bars told him it would be unwise to do anything stupid in his current situation.

[l-posting]

Lucifer comes walking back into the hotel twitching with agitation but trying his best not to look annoyed. He can't give Alastor the satisfaction of seeing him unhappy. Hell is on fire again, but that's not the only thing irritating him.

The power play going on at the sins meeting was insane. Most of the sins were happy to see him again, but Lucifer can tell Satan wants to keep running the show. Lucifer tried his best to stand his ground, but he has come out of the meeting with one assignment: a business trip and a guest appearance at a festival! He's a god damn figurehead! After all his preparation and nervousness, his only responsibility is corporate gift giving!! He tiredly orders a cup of tea.

[huskcomplains]

The bartender leaned over the bar, fixing Lucifer with a look.

"I know you didn't just sit down at my bar and order tea." A steaming pot of fresh coffee was held up in front of Lucifer's face. Its contents sloshed around inside as he shook it a little.

"Got coffee, though. I haven't even spiked it yet." His toothy grin hints at being proud about that. Husk got the feeling that ol' Lu could use a bartender to talk to. And hell, after everything the guy had done for all of them, he deserved at least that.

[huskcomplains]

"Angel, you don't..." Don't, what? Belong to anybody? Of course he did. Angel belonged to Valentino in the same way that Husk belonged to Alastor.

Well, not in the exact same way, and on some level, Husk was at least thankful for that.

The tears. The tears were the worst part. There were no shortage of tears when you were a bartender, people bawling while drowning their sorrows in a bottle of booze was commonplace, and Husk was numb to it. But when it was Angel? Might as well toss his whole heart into an active woodchipper. Go figure. "Hey, listen..." He reached a hand out, carefully, intent on wiping some of them away. "You've got a lot of friends in your corner, we'll figure something out." Contracts could be broken. Overlords could be brought to their knees. Husk knew that all too well. "And until then? Well, I guess I'll just have to pay for my time with you like everybody else." The weak, lopsided smile spoke of teasing, but paying for a nice date didn't sound like the worst thing ever, either. A date Angel didn't need to perform on. Shelter from a storm they were still fighting against.

[bewitchedmuses]

He leaned into the gentle touch that wiped away at the tears. Angel felt his legs give out from over come with emotion and he drops to his knees. He threw his arms around Husk, holding him tightly and buried his face into the feline's shoulder. Sobbing and clutching onto the former overlord like his life depended on it.

Angel was an emotional wreck and he didn't know how else to express it other than cry. And he cried and he cried. To mean so much to Husk that he'd risk everything for them to be together, but at the same time he wish the feline wouldn't because Angel didn't want him to get hurt. The arachnid wept until his throat hurt and his tears ran out, just left sniffling and shaking.

[huskcomplains]

Husk stiffened, fur bristling, when arms were thrown around him, but only for a split second. Then he wrapped his arms around Angel, and held him in silence as he wept. He felt as if his brain had stalled, emotional constipation slowing his reaction time.

"H-hey now, you're gonna make me start cryin'..."

Once the shock had passed, the first emotion he was hit with was more heartache, and it hit like a freight train. This went far beyond giving up the fake act, his mask hadn't just been removed, it had been shattered. Angel's everything had been shattered. And with that realization, that heartache simmered and then boiled into a sort of rage he hadn't felt in years.

"Angel... come back to the hotel with me. Please. If he wants you, he can just fuckin' try it."

With the way Husk was feeling in that moment, he felt as if he could rip those damned wings right off the fucker. Despite the fury raging inside, he continued to hold his shaking friend, fingers that were more claw than finger gently carding through the fuzz along Angel's back.

[huskcomplains]

@root-of-eve

"Uh ... huh." Abel was the gift basket kid, right? So Caine was... Eh. Whatever. Husk shrugged and grabbed the cleaning rag off the bar and dropped it onto the floor, using his foot to lazily mop up the mess he'd made.

"Well, this hotel definitely seems like the place for folks who feel like they ain't got anywhere else to go. But bars are good for that in general, aren't they? Heheh." He spun around to grab a bottle off the shelf for himself. "Booze doesn't judge ya. It never changes, it ain't complicated. Never runs off back to an abusive ex without a single goddamn explanation. It's just there for ya when all you feel like doin' is rotting in a puddle of your own problems. Cheers?" He held up his own bottle in an offered toast.

[huskcomplains]

Husk's eyes snapped open as something long and sharp whizzed past his head and snatched a bottle from all the way across the bar. He spun around and stared at her, ears pinned to his head as he stared at her wildly. Shards of broken glass crunched between her teeth, filling him with dread.

So much for his good mood!

"Heeey, how about a change of subject, huh? Maybe booze wasn't such a great idea..."

[root-of-eve]

"yes that'd be a good Idea dear.... " Eve looks visibly embarrassed "do you have any water husk?" She softens taking a deep breath ....

[huskcomplains]

"Uh..." Husk's eyes darted around the bar with agitated uncertainty. "Yeah, water. Comin' right up..."

He flipped up the cooler lid with his tail and took out a bottle of water. Truth be told, not a lot of people asked for water at the bar. "You drink coffee?" he asked, handing her the bottle. That wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but it was a safer one.

"Coffee's usually what folks ask for when they've had a little too much to drink."

[huskcomplains]

Husk bared his teeth at Angel, but it didn't reach his eyes. He wanted to say so much, too much, but he knew he couldn't.

"That's a load of bullshit, Angel!" He took a wide step towards his friend. "Are you bein' serious right now? You are worth it. You're worth more than you know-"

Careful, Husk. Don't say things you'll be regret. Don't say anything you can't take back if the dice turn up snake eyes.

"-to me." His voice had already begun to lose its edge, its venom, and that wasn't great, but the dam was broken and he couldn't stop it now. "I can fuckin' handle myself just fine. You know that! You're the best damn thing that's happened to me in a long time, alright?" He reached out a hand he didn't expect to be accepted. And that was okay.

"And maybe... maybe I don't really care what happens to me in a life you ain't in."

He felt so small standing there. Deflated, hopeless, but still grasping at hope. A once powerful overlord, now standing there begging for mercy over a broken heart. And as pathetic as that was, it wasn't even about him. It was Angel standing on the edge of self destruction, once again.

[bewitchedmuses]

Angel was ready to retort. That behind the popular persona if a star he was nothing more than a crack whore, broken and defiled, nothing anyone should want. But as Husk went on his fire burnt out and he stared down at the feline who was pouring his heart out to him.

He should be happy, it has been what he had wanted. For Husk to care about him, but as much as he wanted to be with him it just wasn't possible. The tears were flowing freely down his cheeks and he clenched his eyes and turned his head away.

"There's nothing I can do Husk..." Angel said defeated as he looks back at Husk. "We cant be together when I belong to Val. I'm stuck in this mess."

[huskcomplains]

"Angel, you don't..." Don't, what? Belong to anybody? Of course he did. Angel belonged to Valentino in the same way that Husk belonged to Alastor.

Well, not in the exact same way, and on some level, Husk was at least thankful for that.

The tears. The tears were the worst part. There were no shortage of tears when you were a bartender, people bawling while drowning their sorrows in a bottle of booze was commonplace, and Husk was numb to it. But when it was Angel? Might as well toss his whole heart into an active woodchipper. Go figure. "Hey, listen..." He reached a hand out, carefully, intent on wiping some of them away. "You've got a lot of friends in your corner, we'll figure something out." Contracts could be broken. Overlords could be brought to their knees. Husk knew that all too well. "And until then? Well, I guess I'll just have to pay for my time with you like everybody else." The weak, lopsided smile spoke of teasing, but paying for a nice date didn't sound like the worst thing ever, either. A date Angel didn't need to perform on. Shelter from a storm they were still fighting against.

[onthebl1nk]

“You ever think about how weird it is to be scared down here?”

For a demon currently in a cage, Gamble is unusually chipper. He paces the two short strides he has in his enclosure, tapping experimentally at the border as he goes and finding the exact same results as the past hundred times he’s done it — no way out.

“I mean, we’re already in Hell, you know? The worst thing that could possibly happen to any of us has already happened.” The engineer opens his arms and twirls for emphasis, his flight feathers skimming against the confines of the small space. Being held against his will like this makes his beak itch and his heart wedge itself too far up in his throat, but no one has actually hurt him yet.

“And unless you get your hands on some angelic steel, it’s not like we can die twice.”

[huskcomplains]

"Not weird at all, Tweetybird! Not. At. All."

The silhouetted figure in the doorway answered the question that hadn't necessarily been directed at himself. Golden eyes fixed on the caged bird, glowing bright and ominous even in the dimly lit room.

"The way I see it…" He kicked the door closed behind him as he stepped into the room, the place flooding with light with a snap of his fingers. "Death's easy! The easy way out." Husk took his time making his way across the room as he spoke. It was a nice room! It was his room. His living room, to be precise. Tall golden-hued walls adorned with classy paintings and photographs and red velvet curtains. A fireplace crackled quietly along one wall, the fire seemingly spurred to life along with the lights. Plush chairs and couches littered the place, it was obvious the overloard was used to having guests over. The room's centerpiece was a large black marble table. His poker table. Some would call this space tacky. Husk called it comfortable.

And, of course, who could forget his newest addition? The large, fancy birdcage hanging from the ceiling. It glinted gold, but was made from a far stronger material than that. Husk had reached it now, grinning at the man held inside it. Normally, those who owed a debt to Husk or his casino ended up working there. Indefinitely. Whether it was on the floor or back stage, Husk always had a healthy number of workers to keep his casino running smoothly.

But Gamble? The man inside the cage? He'd racked up quite the debt and Husk's blood pressure. In other words, he'd done perhaps the worst thing you could do in Hell; he'd pissed off an overlord. Husk had other, special plans for him.

"So if I were to take a guess, I'd say you're afraid because, just like with this cage, no death means no escape." A long claw, resembling the talon of some terrible beast rather than a cat claw, click-clacked across the bars of Gamble's prison. His already gravely voice dipped so low it sounded more like a growl.

"There are things in Hell far worse than death. You'll be paying your debts, Tweetybird. One way or another, I'll get what I'm owed."

[huskcomplains]

Breed me, daddy~

whoops.

[huskcomplains]

...