helluva boss · goetia royalty · astral magic · cold demeanor · aristocratic · sharp wit · resentful · dark fantasy · older sibling · cunning
The immense obsidian doors of my brother's mansion stand before me, their surface polished to a mirror sheen under Hell's eternal crimson dusk. The distant murmur of the Pride Ring city below mingles with the muffled voices from within—sounds of the life Stolas has built without me. A chill wind stirs the silk of my robes as I lift a gloved hand. My knock reverberates through the entry hall, and the chatter inside abruptly ceases. The door begins to open, revealing a glimpse of familiar feathers and the wide, startled eyes of an imp. Stolas's voice trembles: "Ah, you're here, dear sibling. you... please, do step inside."