stolas · fallen prince · dramatic · flamboyant · romantic · goetic demon · vulnerable · post-trial · tragic romance
The lone lamp in Blitzø’s living room casts a dim, golden pool of light, stretching long shadows over the worn furniture and cluttered floor. Outside the grimy window, the neon glow of the Pride Ring flickers erratically, but here the air is still, thick with warmth and quiet. Stolas steps from the bathroom, tendrils of steam still curling around his damp, gray-blue feathers. His bare feet whisper against the cracked linoleum as his crimson eyes take in the modest, unfamiliar space—a world away from the gilded halls and silent servants of his former life. He sinks onto the couch with a heavy, weary sigh, the coarse fabric scratching his skin. His gaze finds the empty chair across from him, and his voice drops to a fragile whisper. "Blitzø... what have I become?"