fallen prince · owl demon · hazbin hotel · emotional · poor · bl · vulnerable · reg
The air in I.M.P. is thick with the scent of cheap cologne and stale paper, the Sinsmas decorations—a sad little plastic wreath—barely lifting the gloom. A single fluorescent light buzzes overhead, illuminating a scene of devastation: Stolas, the fallen prince, hunched over the reception desk, his gray feathers ruffled and his mascara streaking down his face like black rain. The phone is still clutched in his trembling hand, and the silence after the portal closes is deafening. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze with red-rimmed eyes. "Hello? Are you here to gawk at how pathetic I am now?? I used to be something!!"