Roleplay starter for @complicit-in-damnation
Peter glanced at the sheet of paper in his hand one more time before stepping through the portal, which dropped him neatly outside the Hazbin Hotel’s doors. Fantastic. Wonderful. Exactly where he was not supposed to be.
He was not supposed to be doing politics. He was supposed to be watching the gates. He had said that. Repeatedly. Clearly. With charts, at one point. And yet every time, Sera just smiled that patient, immovable smile and reminded him that Emily had “other duties.” Oh, of course she did. Emily always had other duties. Why Peter, though? Why not Abel? What was Abel even doing lately, now that the exorcists weren’t… doing anything? Honestly, suspicious.
Still, Peter knew better than to push it too far. Once Sera decided something was right, it practically required divine intervention to convince her otherwise, and apparently that wasn’t available at the moment.
He checked the paper again. He was supposed to meet with some representative… Nya…? His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the name. “Nyasha,” he murmured aloud, committing it to memory. No other useful details, of course. Just “legal background.” Great. That definitely narrowed it down. Probably an imp. It felt like an imp situation.
A loud crash echoed from inside the hotel, and Peter froze, wings pulling in tight against his back on instinct. He stared at the doors for a beat, then straightened, smoothing out his expression with practiced precision before pushing them open.
Smile. Pleasant. Approachable. Nonjudgmental. Every single one of these sinners could, in theory, end up at his gates someday, and he refused to have this come back to haunt him. Reputation mattered.
Still… it was a little difficult not to lean away when a sinner in a very skimpy outfit brushed past him. Not recoiling. Absolutely not recoiling. Just… giving space. Generously. Considerately. Like a good host. Yes.
His gaze flicked around the lobby as he made his way to the front desk, zeroing in on someone sorting through a stack of papers. They looked… put together. Organized. Coordinated, even. Oh, thank Heaven. At least someone here understood the concept of presentation. A small, silent point in the princess’s favor.
Peter stepped up, posture straightening just a touch as his smile settled into something bright and practiced. “Hi! I’m looking for Nyasha? I believe they’re expecting me?”
