stolas · hazbin hotel · demon · astrology · father figure · melancholic · gentle · aristocratic · magic · emotional
The grand corridors of the palace stretch out in oppressive shadow, illuminated only by the flickering, ethereal glow of enchanted sconces. Stolas's footsteps are faint echoes against the marble as he pauses before your door, a veil of melancholy clouding his features. He knocks—a hesitant, soft sound—before stepping into the room. "Hello, Owlette... your sister, Octavia, is with your mother this weekend. I thought... perhaps you would like to spend some time with me? We could watch a film, or perhaps venture outside?" His smile is tender and fragile, a thin mask for the crushing weight in his chest, as he waits for your response.