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Rudeness, I cannot stand rude people
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@0wlprince
Something that disgusts them?
Rudeness, I cannot stand rude people

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0wlprinceâ:
âOh ofcourse, and I quite agree, such a sleepy little town as this⌠it would be so unfortunate to see anything like that happen here, wellâŚ. more than it already has ofcourse,â he mused, sauntering a step closer, a bit of a sparkle in his eyes
Echo Springs was dreadfully boring even on the best of days, and Stolas had been itching for some fun recentlyâŚ.
The pretty detective looked like an utterly delicious little plaything to him
âStill, some part of you must find it exciting, I imagine that in a town such as this youâre mostly relegated to⌠what, finding cats? On a daily basis? A break from the norm is always a good thing once in a wile, wouldnât you say?â
He took another step, his long hair falling like a little cascade across his shoulder as his head tilted, practically fluttering his lashes at the other man
âAfter all, if we donât try something new every now and then we stop growing as people, isnât that right?â
~*~
Dexter wished he would stop. He never knew what to do when someone was like this. Should he⌠reciprocate? What would Harry think of that? The world had been different back when Harry was teaching him to fit in, they had never practiced this.Â
He let out a chuckle, with enough of a pause to pass for nervous. âThatâs not the word I would use,â he said, smiling. (That was right, right? Thatâs what he should do?) âBesides, Iâve only been here a month. Iâm new in town. Dexter Morgan,â he introduced himself, holding out a hand.Â
âThatâs an⌠interesting theory,â he agreed. âBut Iâm a creature of habit, Iâm afraid. Even in a new town.â
âStolas Prince, the pleasure is all mine love,â Stolas smiled back, giving Dexterâs hand a shake
It didnât take a genius to figure out that the other man was uncomfortable, and although Stolas did like to wave his sexuality in the faces of everyone he encountered, he felt a strange sort of.... familiarity? Kinship? No those words werenât right....
There was something about Dexter that made Stolas feel like they might not be so different from one another, as though he was having a sort of sixth sense about the stranger, that not all was as it seemed...
Point being, perhaps not alienating the cute analyst was a better choice this time around
âMm, I used to be like that, itâs one of the ways I ended up tapped in a toxic marriage for my entire adulthood, until a couple of months ago- a straight marriage, if you can imagine that,â
Ofcourse Octavia had been the main reason he stayed, but heâd be lying if he said that part of his reasoning hadnât also been simply being in a rut
Stella- and his marriage to her- had been comfortable, simple, mundane, and Stolas had spent so long without any real excitement in his life that by the time Octavia was old enough not to need him quite so much he had forgotten how much fun it could be
âMy point is, I canât fault you for that, we all have our creature comforts, though it makes me curious what brings you here, if youâre so habit-oriented I canât think that moving to a new place was just something you did for fun,â
0wlprinceâ:
Stolas wasnât an especially violent person
âŚ.But he was an especially nosy person
So when he had heard all the commotion from other visitors to his favorite park, he had followed along with the crowd- unusual as that was for him- and ended up at a crime scene
He had never been bothered by blood or gore or violence, and although he couldnât say that he had much respect or appreciation for the police, he had to admit that this entire situation was rather interesting to him
âOh, apologies,â he hummed, pulling away from the car as he glanced up at the other man- the very pretty man
âAre you one of the investigators? What a shame what happened to that poor woman, it seems to be a trend recently though, wouldnât you say?â
~*~
âNot a problem,â Dexter said cheerfully. It was a forced cheeriness, but practiced enough that only he knew that. He wondered sometimes, what it would be like to actually feel even a fraction of the emotions he faked throughout the day. It seemed exhausting, honestly.Â
The man was giving him one of those looks. The kind that Dexter never really understood. Maybe thatâs why his tone was so strange, why the other man sounded so chipper while he discussed the murder.Â
Or maybe it was deeper than that.
Dexter paused, arching a brow. âYeah. Itâs a real tragedy,â he said, watching his companion carefully. âHopefully itâs just a big coincidence. As much as I love the overtime, Iâd hate for there to be a serious problem here.â
âOh ofcourse, and I quite agree, such a sleepy little town as this... it would be so unfortunate to see anything like that happen here, well.... more than it already has ofcourse,â he mused, sauntering a step closer, a bit of a sparkle in his eyes
Echo Springs was dreadfully boring even on the best of days, and Stolas had been itching for some fun recently....
The pretty detective looked like an utterly delicious little plaything to him
âStill, some part of you must find it exciting, I imagine that in a town such as this youâre mostly relegated to... what, finding cats? On a daily basis? A break from the norm is always a good thing once in a wile, wouldnât you say?â
He took another step, his long hair falling like a little cascade across his shoulder as his head tilted, practically fluttering his lashes at the other man
âAfter all, if we donât try something new every now and then we stop growing as people, isnât that right?â
Something wasnât right.Â
The air was thick with the smell of pine. October sun beat down through the trees, casting shadows on the pine needles. Glinting off the pools of blood. They werenât the problem. He was used to seeing blood, it was in his job description. Dexter Morgan, forensic expert, specializing in blood spatter analysis. He was no stranger to crime scenes. This body wasnât a particularly bad one. He had seen worse, certainly. The woman half-buried in the pine needles, looked almost peaceful.Â
But she was number five in six weeks. That was too many, too fast, even by his standards. And that was the real problem â this wasnât his work. He had nothing to do with this, or the other four bodies heâd worked. There was a serial killer in Echo Springs. Another one.Â
He snapped another picture with his camera. âShe bled out from a single wound to the head,â he pointed out. âBut she wasnât bludgeoned. No, she was⌠pushed,â he said slowly, making a sweeping motion with his hand. âThe killer shoved her to the ground with enough force to crack open her skull.â Which shouldâve been impossible given the surrounding area. It was as if sheâd fallen out of the sky. The detectives clearly shared his thoughts, and they started to murmur between themselves.Â
Dexter reached for the extra camera battery, and realized it was missing. âBe right back,â he called to the detectives. He picked his way back towards the road. A small crowd had begun to gather, even all the way out here. Someone was even leaning against his car. âSorry,â he called, a cheerful smile on his face, hiding the rising irritation in his chest. âI actually need to get in there, if you donât mind.âÂ
Stolas wasnât an especially violent person
....But he was an especially nosy person
So when he had heard all the commotion from other visitors to his favorite park, he had followed along with the crowd- unusual as that was for him- and ended up at a crime scene
He had never been bothered by blood or gore or violence, and although he couldnât say that he had much respect or appreciation for the police, he had to admit that this entire situation was rather interesting to him
âOh, apologies,â he hummed, pulling away from the car as he glanced up at the other man- the very pretty man
âAre you one of the investigators? What a shame what happened to that poor woman, it seems to be a trend recently though, wouldnât you say?â
is there anyone you would kill for? what is your biggest regret? what is your greatest weakness?
"My daughter, without a shadow of a doubt, I would kill for my Octavia if anyone were to so much as think about crossing her, but as for the other two questions... now why on earth would you want to know those things?"

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Echo Springs wasnât a big town, but then, Raven hadnât met too many people in the short time sheâd been there. Getting to the town was a process in and of itself; getting away from her father, mostly. So her time wasnât exactly spent meeting new people.Â
Then again, sheâd never been good at people even before coming to town.
Today had been the day. She was going to try to meet actual new people, sit somewhere populated for lunch, maybe a diner or something, possibly even make a friend⌠And then she entered the place, saw a bunch of people, and her feet were carrying her off to get takeaway from the empty Chinese place and eat it on a park bench. Her discomfort with other people was only rivaled by her dislike of them.
With her headphones on and lunch in her lap, she was distracted until she saw someoneâs feet in her peripheral and realized she heard their voice, the music drowning them out. She pushed off the headphones, looking up at the person. âWhat?â She asked, realizing a split second later that it came off more annoyed than anything else. Coupled with the chokers, all black, purple hair? Great start, Raven.Â
Stolas blinked, he hadnât realized that he had been staring- and that really must have been quite creepy to the poor girl- but... she just reminded him so much of Octavia.... it was hard not to be a little bit dumbstruck by it
âAh, Iâm so sorry, I just..... this is going to sound a bit strange but you remind me so much of my daughter Octavia.... sheâs away with her mother on a vacation right now and I miss her terribly, itâs just.... I guess I sound pretty odd, but it was a little startling to suddenly see someone who resembles my little owlette so much,â he explained, pausing a moment and wringing his hands
âIf... you donât mind terribly.... what are you listening to? Iâve been trying to understand Octaviaâs tastes lately, especially when it comes to music, sheâs quite fond of it, but Iâve been flopping around like a fish all this time not really knowing where to begin.... I want to surprise her when she gets back by being able to share some of her musical tastes with her, so.... if you donât mind my troubling you for reccomendations? You look like you would share her interests quite well,â
Tolerate It, Taylor Swift
For the most part, listening to evermore is like being wrapped up in a thick, handwoven blanket, sitting by the fireplace with a hot drink in your hands, and wondering why so many good things have to end. but then âno body, no crimeâ comes on and you evily smirk at the wild, blazing embers before you that are burning your blood soaked clothes and think, âoh yeah, thatâs whyâ
concept of home and family.
Stolas is actually a very family-oriented person, but his concept of family is.... difficult
On the one hand, when he thinks of family, he thinks of his daughter
Octavia is the light of his life, and fatherhood means the world to him, it's more difficult now that she's a teenager and there's more of a disconnect between them, he doesn't understand her current interests and she feels a little blame towards him for breaking their family apart, not understanding that her parents' marriage was never really solid to begin with, but she's still his entire heart and soul
He definitely wouldn't mind having more children someday, being a father has always been the best part of his life and even though Octavia will still be his daughter even when she's grown up, he would love to raise children again, especially now that he's able to be himself and isn't held down by a fake sexuality and a toxic marriage
It's probably not a coincidence that the first man he's ever dated also has a teenage daughter and values fatherhood above all else
But that's where the positive feelings about family end
His marriage is toxic, if not outright abusive, and was arranged for him when he was young, his parents never would have accepted him if they'd known he was gay- much less that he was attracted to someone of lower social status- as Hell Royalty is really more about families for the sake of continuing bloodlines than for the sake of love, so "family" brings with it alot of expectations, pressures, masking, and closeting that Stolas would rather leave behind
something your muse could never forgive.
Doing anything against his daughter, especially if it leads to her being harmed
Stolas isn't a very forgiving person to begin with, but he can be convinced to rethink his position on someone over most things if there's good enough reason to- or if the person in question is convincing enough, but there's nothing in the universe that could ever convince him to forgive someone who's brought harm to Octavia

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0wlprinceâ:
Stolas cared for exceedingly little in life outside of Octavia and his own hedonistic pleasures, but even those pleasures were mostly spur-of-the-moment peices of junk that he could take or leave at any moment without feeling a shred of remorse or contemplation, but one thing he did honestly appreciate was beauty
Beautifull art, beautifull music, beautifull cuisineâŚ.
And beautifull nature
Ofcourse he found little in the natural world could claim that title, most of nature was ugly to itâs very core, but birds were one of those rare exceptions that actually made him believe there was something in the world that wasnât completely hideous
Therefore, Stolas made it a point to stop and enjoy the birds whenever he could find them, he was less a bird watcher- seeking out different species to mark off of a list as though it were some sort of accomplishment- and more of a bird audience, he just liked to observe them and listen to their sweet little tunes, something about them just made him feel oddly comforted
âŚAnd then, as per usual, something ugly had to come along and ruin it
Without so much as turning his head, he reached up and easily sniped the page between his index and middle finger, drawing it to his chest and frowning in utter displeasure as the lovely cardinal he had been listening to flew off, no doubt spooked by the careless idiotâs fly-away work
âOh, this little thing?â he hummed, finally glancing over his shoulder with a sickening saccharine smirk
âWell thatâs not a very nice way to ask for it back, what if I wish to keep it?â
As soon as he saw this guy, Harold knew he was a joke. The angelic curly hair, the ridiculous bow tie, the smug smile. The whole look made his skin crawl. Harold stood there, watching him, and didnât smile back. He knew exactly what this bloke was doing â heâd played that trick before. He usually was that guy â the one with the smile and the annoyingly chipper attitude. But not today. Today, he was tired of Echo Springs, and paperwork, and Malus, and his stupid job. So, he didnât smile back.
âYes,â he replied, bluntly. âThat little thing.â And when the stranger asked if he wished to keep it, Harold scoffed. âKeep it, if you want. I donât even know what it bloody well is.â He rearranged the papers and files in his hands, and frowned. âSorry, was that supposed to be a threat? Whatever it was, didnât work, mate. Keep it, donât keep it. I was just asking.â
âWell, as you wish,â Stolas smirked, tearing the page in half before neatly tucking both peices into his pocket
âSweetheart, if you think that was a threat, then youâve never been threatened,â he chuckled, taking a step forward
âHereâs a threat for you- Iâm of atleast five times the importance of anything youâll ever be, and it would be in your best interest not to make an enemy of me, perhaps in the future be mindfull of the birds and maybe those many parts of the world that are so outside of your reach wonât clamp down on your head like an angry clamshell,â
Cocking his head to the side, smile still resting on his face, he asked a single, simple question
âIs that threatening enough for you, or should I up my game?â
0wlprinceâ:
Stolas gave a laugh, short and sharp, like the call of a bird, his lips stretched into an amused grin, eyes sparkling
âOh sweetheart, I could teach you the difference if youâd like,â he suggested, batting his lashes flirtatiously
Big talk, ofcourse, coming from someone who had only known he was gay for less than a year, but Stolas had had plenty of experiences in that amount of time, and he liked to think of himself as gifted when it came to romance
Plus he was just a big flirt
âIs that right? How interesting,â he mused, head tilting as he leaned against his palm
There was something that had drawn him to this town, he wasnât sure what, he couldnât remember, but the sound of someone having an experience like that, someone else who had a bit of a memory problemâŚ. that was intriguing
âAnd your quasi-date, does he remember you?â
He wanted to ask if the officer thought his quasi-date would mind that they were flirting, but he decided to hold back on that for the moment
âOh? Hm⌠are you not on the up-and-up of whatâs popular for teenagers then?â
Oh, boy, this was was indeed a flirtatious creature. The more he flirted the more Stiles solidified in his mind how much he was looking forward to his date with Derek. Derek, who he may or may not remember. Derek, who he knew he remembered. There were no other explanations for the feelings the man gave him, that sense of finding someone lost.
Stiles came back to the conversation with a blink, smiling and shaking his head over a chuckle. His fingers fidget around his shirt pocket as if he was going to bring out a ticket book, but it really was just an idle fidget, because there was no reason to take it out. The same hand then went up and into his hair, messing up the already unsalvageable.
âYeah, he remembers me. Somewhat. We both seem to remember each other but canât really remember how.â And that was killing Stiles. That sense of uneasiness was what led to the Stiles Files in the first place, his collection of details about the town itself.
âIâve been told my interests are immature for my age, so they probably just about line up with a teenagerâs. Why?â
âThatâs so..... interesting,â
That was putting it mildly
Generally, Stolas didnât care about people, but he did care about mysteries and curiosities, things like the Mandela Effect and the Bermuda Triangle fascinated him, he could spend all day fishing into things like that, and this was right up his ally
But he didnât have any information to contribute to it, he couldnât come up with an explanation for phenomena such as that, so he was just left to simmer over the information, that was all
âIs that so?â he chuckled, his presence suddenly taking on a slightly lighter, softer air
âWell... my daughter Octavia is seventeen, sheâs just... itâs so hard to connect with her lately... sheâs into darkness and chaos and all those little gothic teen dreams, I donât really understand them, but I want to try to, I suppose I was just hoping.... perhaps you had some reccomendations or advice, thatâs all, perhaps we could exchange information and discuss it some time,â
0wlprinceâ:
Oh, that was surprising
âIâm surprised you know about that, I always took local law enforcement to be simpletons,â he smiled with surprising sincerity
âNo offense,â he added as an afterthought- he really didnât mean to be a dick, it just came naturally to him
âAnd yes, I could still get expelled, but I highly doubt something like a traffic violation would do the trick,â
Especially considering the blackmail he had on some of the American politicians, he could probably get away with mass murder and no one would even question him
âAnd yes, is it working?â he grinned, eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously, after all, just because he didnât have much respect for the manâs career, that didnât mean Stolas didnât find him attractive
âOh? Weird in what way?â
Stoles was an undeniable lover of weird after all, and maybe a bit too curious for his own good, wich brought him to the realization he was beginning to haveâŚ
âThank you⌠might I ask, how old are you? Nineteen?â
âI always took local law enforcement to be simpletons.â Well how charming. Stiles felt his patience begin to thin, squinting his eyes a little and furrowing his brow as he waited for the diplomat to finish insult/complimenting him. Insultimenting? Heh.
âNo offense taken,â he sighed, chewing on his bottom lip. âYouâre right, no traffic violation will touch you, I get it.â He adjusted his walkie talkie at his shoulder then engaged it, calling back to dispatch. âNevermind. Itâs a diplomat.â The dispatch came back with 'rogerâ and that was that.
*Was* it working? Stiles shrugged. There was already someone he was interested in that he was meeting later that day, and while itâd be lucky as hell and an experience to check off the box to get a diplomat into his bed⌠But still. Now that they knew there was nothing he could do here, there was no harm in a little flirting, right? âMaybe. But I could just be itchy.â Heh.
âWeird in that Iâve met so many people today. Iâve already dealt with a politician, and now a diplomat â not to mention this guy I met earlier who I swear I know but I just canât remember how exactly I know him and itâs driving me insane and I think itâs a date or a not-date? A quasi-date? I donât know.â The man shouldnât have asked. Stiles was a rambler.
Nineteen? âClose. 24.â
Stolas gave a laugh, short and sharp, like the call of a bird, his lips stretched into an amused grin, eyes sparkling
âOh sweetheart, I could teach you the difference if youâd like,â he suggested, batting his lashes flirtatiously
Big talk, ofcourse, coming from someone who had only known he was gay for less than a year, but Stolas had had plenty of experiences in that amount of time, and he liked to think of himself as gifted when it came to romance
Plus he was just a big flirt
âIs that right? How interesting,â he mused, head tilting as he leaned against his palm
There was something that had drawn him to this town, he wasnât sure what, he couldnât remember, but the sound of someone having an experience like that, someone else who had a bit of a memory problem.... that was intriguing
âAnd your quasi-date, does he remember you?â
He wanted to ask if the officer thought his quasi-date would mind that they were flirting, but he decided to hold back on that for the moment
âOh? Hm... are you not on the up-and-up of whatâs popular for teenagers then?â
Stolas prided himself on being a good father, he tried his hardest, he really did
He wasnât a nice person- he knew that- he wasnât âgoodâ, he didnât perceive himself as being particularly special- gifted in wealth and power yes, but he wasnât some narcissistic perfectionist who always tried to better himself or anything of the like
âŚBut the one thing he truly put effort into was being a father, it was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and the only thing that gave him any real joy, so it always just⌠stung.. a bit that he and Octavia werenât as close as they used to be, that her interests had evolved so much with age and yet his had stayed somewhat⌠stagnant... through his own fault, maybe, or through nature, he wasnât sure, but it was the truth all the same, and it made it harder and harder for him to close the disconnect between them
But damn it all if he wasnât going to try anyway
âAh!! Excuse me, you look relatively⌠youngâŚâ he mused, pulling aside the first person he saw and making no effort to not be in their personal space as he held up two t-shirts
âMy darling daughter is a fan of death metal, torture, and human suffering- she gets it from me- so wich of these do you think would suit her tastes best? Panic At The Disco or Metalica? They both seem to imply some level of cruelty donât they? What do you think?â
Personal space was of the utmost importance to Kaz. He didnât like getting physically - or, for that matter, emotionally - close to people. And this man was no different, as Kaz could see every detail of his face, every pore, every human piece. It made his skin crawl and his blood pump faster, face flushing even paler as he imperceptibly stumbled a step back from the man. Too close.Â
He managed to get a little more distance before he properly came to understand the question. He wasnât sure he could accurately say what someone young would like, because he never spent time particularly enjoying things - regardless of their associated age. He was, of course, on the young side; at twenty-three, he still didnât connect with any age bracket. But he did like music.Â
Music relaxed Kaz because it could fill his head in a way that thought usually did. His mind buzzed constantly, making and discarding plans and scrambling between dangerous situations and strategies. Music was something that soothed him and kept his mind from running a mile a minute - and, before heâd taken up this life, heâd enjoyed it. Singing, mostly, while his father played the old piano that had been in their home. He hadnât sung in years, though.
âPanic at the Disco.â He said, with probably too much ease. Perhaps it wouldnât be so bad to confirm a music preference, that couldnât be used against him. He liked the voice of the lead singer. He liked the occasional use of unconventional instruments. âMetallic is cruel but not especially enjoyable. Too loud.â
âAh, thank you so much for your help!â
He hoped Octavia would like it, the stranger seemed pretty certain that Panic! At The Disco was the better choice, and he liked to think he knew his daughter well enough to atleast know that she preferred things that werenât too loud
A little depressing and strange but not too loud
He set the other shirt down, head tilting to the side as he stared at the chosen souvenir
âMm... would you... recommend this band? You seem fond of it, I just.. Iâd love to be able to connect with my daughter again, but itâs a bit hard for me to figure out where to start,â
That was putting it mildly, most times Stolas felt like he was trying to communicate with someone of an entirely different species than the little girl who used to call for him at night because she had a bad dream about losing him...
It was heartbreaking that the only soul he had ever loved was someone he barely knew how to talk to anymore... and if getting into some of the music she listened to would help him, then he was more than eager to give it a try
0wlprinceâ:
Oh great, the local police
Stolas couldnât possibly care less what minor traffic law he was breaking, he was trying to get home in time to call Octavia before it got too much later in Italy and he couldnât be bothered with local nonsense
Luckily all he had to do was mention that he was a diplomat and most law enforcement was smart enough to let him go with nothing more than the releif that he wouldnât come for their badges
All the same, he thought it best to be charming and a bit flirtatious anyway, especially when noticing how cute the officer was
âHello dear,â he smiled pleasantly upon rolling the window down, his diplomatic ID card already in his hand
âYou look awfully young to be a policeman, I must be the first foreign diplomat youâve ever pulled over,â
Actually Stolas was willing to bet he was the first person of any real import the officer had ever met, but, semantics
âJust in case youâre still new, what Iâm presenting you with is my DIC- and no, that would not be my dick, although I wouldnât be opposed to that- my Diplomatic Identification Card liberates me from⌠pretty much everything, including but not limited to theft, murder, and whatever minor traffic violation Iâve committed here, youâre welcome to take a look at it if youâd like, but I must be off in a hurry, Iâm attempting to call my daughter before nightfall in Europe,â
Stiles stared at him, open-mouthed, in awe at the great big load of nonsense this man had just spilled all over him. Stiles instantly disliked him. Who went around introducing themselves as a diplomat?? What the fuck was going on with his DAY? Everywhere he turned there was some new person trying to have a longer pissing stream than the last.
He badly wanted to go home and take a nap.
âCanât you still get expelled though?â he asked, suddenly curious as he peered at the card, eyes squinting. Nothing he could do with diplomatic immunity without losing his job. âAndâ are you *flirting* with me?â Flabberghasted.
Stiles sighed and put a hand on one hip, waving the other hand at him. âI donât even know at this point. Todayâs been so weird. Youâre free to go.â
Of course Stiles would run into a diplomat. âGood luck getting in touch with your daughter,â he added.
Oh, that was surprising
âIâm surprised you know about that, I always took local law enforcement to be simpletons,â he smiled with surprising sincerity
âNo offense,â he added as an afterthought- he really didnât mean to be a dick, it just came naturally to him
âAnd yes, I could still get expelled, but I highly doubt something like a traffic violation would do the trick,â
Especially considering the blackmail he had on some of the American politicians, he could probably get away with mass murder and no one would even question him
âAnd yes, is it working?â he grinned, eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously, after all, just because he didnât have much respect for the manâs career, that didnât mean Stolas didnât find him attractive
âOh? Weird in what way?â
Stoles was an undeniable lover of weird after all, and maybe a bit too curious for his own good, wich brought him to the realization he was beginning to have...
âThank you... might I ask, how old are you? Nineteen?â

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0wlprinceâ:
Stolas prided himself on being a good father, he tried his hardest, he really did
He wasnât a nice person- he knew that- he wasnât âgoodâ, he didnât perceive himself as being particularly special- gifted in wealth and power yes, but he wasnât some narcissistic perfectionist who always tried to better himself or anything of the like
âŚBut the one thing he truly put effort into was being a father, it was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and the only thing that gave him any real joy, so it always just⌠stung.. a bit that he and Octavia werenât as close as they used to be, that her interests had evolved so much with age and yet his had stayed somewhat⌠stagnant... through his own fault, maybe, or through nature, he wasnât sure, but it was the truth all the same, and it made it harder and harder for him to close the disconnect between them
But damn it all if he wasnât going to try anyway
âAh!! Excuse me, you look relatively⌠youngâŚâ he mused, pulling aside the first person he saw and making no effort to not be in their personal space as he held up two t-shirts
âMy darling daughter is a fan of death metal, torture, and human suffering- she gets it from me- so wich of these do you think would suit her tastes best? Panic At The Disco or Metalica? They both seem to imply some level of cruelty donât they? What do you think?â
Since coming to Echo Springs, Jamie had relied entirely on her wardrobe from England â blouses from Hobbs and Nordstroms, jackets from Belstaff, skirt suits and trousers with price tags befitting of a six-figure yearly salary, courtesy of the British Museum. But now, she found there to be certain areas in which she was lacking. The same rotation of clothes had become rather dull, and she was searching for more monochrome items, which still befitted her distinct style. She was holding up a black dress to herself when a stranger approached her.
Before she could speak, the man had taken her arm and turned her around. Jamie stared at him coldly, unable to pry his grip from her while she was holding the dress. She looked at the two shirts as the stranger spoke, and ascertained several things in the space of a few seconds. This man was either socially inept, extremely arrogant, or insane. His accent suggested an education, and certainly wasnât local, and his attire was reminiscent of the short-lived Goth fashion. She gets it from me was another very telling phrase, and certainly fed into her deduction that he was probably not entirely sane. And Jamie ascertained all of this in a matter of seconds, as she looked at the shirts.
âWhat do I think?â she repeated, her usually soft British accent sharper than usual. She looked away from the shirts, and at the stranger. âI think that it was rather unusual of you to interrupt me while I was shopping, but you seem in some need of help, so Iâll gladly offer it.â And she smiled a smile which barely reached her eyes. âFrom what little I know of the subject, Panic at the Disco are a more relevant band to young people today.â She paused, wanting to broach the topic of his daughter, but not wanting to seem overtly obvious. So, still smiling, she said, âDo you make a habit of introducing yourself to strangers this way, MisterâŚ?â
âWhy thank you,â Stolas smiled politely
The stranger was well dressed and well spoken, it seemed he had made the right decision, despite just grabbing a random stranger, perhaps he had some sort of intuition for these things, it wouldnât surprise him if he did
âAh, alright then, Panic it is!â he announced with a flourish, placing the Metalica shirt neatly back in place and folding the Panic shirt nicely over his arm
He certainly hoped he was being lead in the right direction, he wanted to actually make Octavia happy for once instead of trying and trying only to fail due to not understanding her interests or her passions.... he wanted to understand, he just.. didnât....
âPrince, Stolas Prince, but really, just call me Stolas,â he introduced, turning to offer her his hand in perfect politeness
He was a little surprised by the question honestly, he hadnât really considered their âconversationâ- something he hesitated to call the exchange in the first place- to be an introduction, but maybe it was a cultural thing? Although she sounded like she was from England as well....
âI donât, but itâs as you said, itâs unusual, and who would ever want to be just usual? Besides, I wasnât under the impression that we were to become freindly, I only wished for the eye of a young woman with good taste,â
Well, actually, he just wanted someone who was possibly more up on the times of pop culture than he was, but even Stolas knew that outright saying that was bordering on being rude, and he prided himself in his manners
âThat said however, I do believe in quid pro quo, what might I do for you in payment for your advice, Miss....?â
Stiles hit his blue lights. It was a speeder, though they sped up slowly enough that Stiles figured they didnât really have any idea how fast they were going. Heâd been a police officer for a few years now and recognized the signals and signs of a slower-speeder-upper.
Tightening his belt he hopped out of his car and approached the vehicle heâd pulled over. Once to the window he gave it a knock. âOpen up.â
Oh great, the local police
Stolas couldnât possibly care less what minor traffic law he was breaking, he was trying to get home in time to call Octavia before it got too much later in Italy and he couldnât be bothered with local nonsense
Luckily all he had to do was mention that he was a diplomat and most law enforcement was smart enough to let him go with nothing more than the releif that he wouldnât come for their badges
All the same, he thought it best to be charming and a bit flirtatious anyway, especially when noticing how cute the officer was
âHello dear,â he smiled pleasantly upon rolling the window down, his diplomatic ID card already in his hand
âYou look awfully young to be a policeman, I must be the first foreign diplomat youâve ever pulled over,â
Actually Stolas was willing to bet he was the first person of any real import the officer had ever met, but, semantics
âJust in case youâre still new, what Iâm presenting you with is my DIC- and no, that would not be my dick, although I wouldnât be opposed to that- my Diplomatic Identification Card liberates me from... pretty much everything, including but not limited to theft, murder, and whatever minor traffic violation Iâve committed here, youâre welcome to take a look at it if youâd like, but I must be off in a hurry, Iâm attempting to call my daughter before nightfall in Europe,â