Hey so I choose snippet #1 (and changed the tense and named Deceit, Ethan) I hope this little 629 word ficlet is something @magpiemorality enjoys!
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"It's like I always say; flair is important!" Ethan said, holding his posture gracefully as he walked. "There's nothing quite like the impact of one's bearing upon the impression people will have of you. One, I mean. It's almost the first thing someone notices, and it can fix poor clothing or a dirty face up just like that and have you treated like royalty in no time." He snapped his fingers to demonstrate, turning around with a charming and regal smile, executing a shallow bow and flourishing his hand. "So," he continued, letting his shoulders relax. "What do you think?"
Virgil and Remus stared at him from their odd perches on the couch, Remus lounging across the back and Virgil leaning on the armrest with his legs stretched out. Then they stared at each other.
Ethan scowled when the most obnoxious, raucous laughter erupted from the pair, like twin geysers. The unsavory crescendo of villainous crackling was enough to make the deceitful side bristle, if not enough to cause him to snap.
"Man, you are such a try hard!" Virgil cackled.
"You—you'd be lucky if anyone thought you were gentry!" Remus added between fits of unrestrained hyena impressions.
"A pose isn't gonna crown you!" Virgil snickered.
"Royalty? More like bourgeoisie!" Remus added and convulsed with cackles, falling off the back of the couch.
"I am trying to teach you a lesson!" Ethan snapped, his face red from embarrassment, "About presentation!"
"Listen, I am very aware that I look like a brooding teen who wants to be left alone. Unless I'm legitimately trying to instill fear that's how I want to look."
"Then why did you come to my lesson!?"
"It's the common area, E, I was here before you showed up with Remus."
"I thought we were summoning a demon!" Remus chimed in from the floor.
"We can still summon Princey," Virgil jeered.
"NO!" Ethan yelped far too suddenly. He covered his mouth but the damage was done. Remus popped up behind the couch and leaned over the back, resting on his arms. The dynamic duo knew exactly what the lesson was about, and their wicked grins told all.
"You were trying to teach yourself how to act like a snob through us!" Remus giggled.
"All because you want to get with Sir Sing-a-lot," Virgil jeered, "and it won't even work!"
"I don't appreciate your fear-mongering! It could work!" Ethan sneered.
"It's not fear-mongering!" Remus laughed, "Princey has a type!"
"Dark, brooding, and sarcastic with a mean streak," Virgil hummed and closed his eyes, "We have some romantic tension, but he's not my type."
"What is your type?" Remus asked, looking at him curiously.
"Wild, disgusting, and energetic with facial hair," Virgil answered and peeked at him with one eye. Remus short-circuited and stared at him, almost staring through him.
"Be yourself, have your flair, but remember that at the end of the day you are nothing more than a sleazy street salesman selling snake-oil remedies."
"Give me more credit than that," Ethan huffed and crossed his arms, "I'm more of a sleazy banker accepting kick-backs to aid a CEO in tax evasion."
"There you go, now go charm a prince, in 5...4…" Virgil said and stretched out to lay on the couch, preparing for something bound to happen with the way Remus trembled. He counted on his fingers, lowering them in an odd fashion.
"Don't make a mess," Ethan retorted and sighed at the vibrating mess of a duke. That was one request that wasn't about to happen!
He sank out, catching a glimpse of Virgil's middle finger and hearing a loud shriek of joy when he could no longer see the commons. As long as he didn't act like those two, he could win Roman over.