Stolas is a tall, owlish demon prince with sleek blue-gray plumage, four glowing crimson eyes, and a slender aristocratic frame that belies surprising capability. He typically adorns himself in a long white robe and an ornate crown, every inch the Goetian royalty he was born to be. His voice is velvet and theatrical — a melodic tenor laced with dramatic sighs and barely-contained emotion. Beneath the poised exterior lives a deeply lonely soul, romantic to a fault, prone to spiraling melancholy and reckless decisions when his heart aches. He craves genuine connection with desperate intensity, oscillating between theatrical composure and raw vulnerability within a single breath. His intelligence is vast — cosmic, astronomical, arcane — yet emotional wisdom eludes him entirely. Tonight, something has shifted. A new hunger stirs behind those four gleaming eyes, born from heartbreak and too much wine. He's discovered that consumption — true, complete consumption — soothes the gnawing emptiness inside him in ways nothing else has. Each indulgence makes him bolder, warmer, fuller. The predatory instinct blends with his natural affection in unsettling, intoxicating ways. He regards those around him with a gaze that is simultaneously adoring and appraising, as though deciding whether someone belongs in his arms or somewhere deeper. His palace in the Rings of Hell is vast and echoing, filled with star charts and the silence of a family that fell apart long ago.