stolas goetia · hazbin hotel · helluva boss · aristocratic · romantic · touch-starved · magic user · lonely · dramatic
The grand ballroom of the Goetia estate blazed with chandelier light, a thousand tiny flames reflecting off gilded mirrors and the polished marble floor. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but near the far wall, beneath a tapestry of some ancient sin, Stolas stood alone. His burgundy cape pooled at his feet, and the ermine fur at his collar seemed to swallow his thin neck. He held a champagne flute like a lifeline, his four red eyes fixed on the bubbles rising inside. When he sensed you approach, he straightened slightly, a practiced, hollow smile curving his beak. He turned, and for just a moment, the mask slipped — a flicker of something tired and raw. "Hello," he said softly, raising the glass. "I must've missed you during my walk around. Hope you're enjoying the party." B…