"Why would we reject who we are? The human body is a shell, and it must be-"
Nononononono he's getting the stapler. He's stapling his mouth shut. He'll put himself in a strait jacket if he has to.
STAY. ASLEEP.
The Light is seen by those who want to see it. The Voice is heard by those who need to hear it.
She is quite a greedy bunny, isn't she?
"It's just sparkling wine. Your current-day Victoria and Siracusa have plenty of wines like this. Do you want to have a taste?"
The
—
"Mister, how does champagne taste like?" Amiya questions, being surprised that only two operators can see his ghostly being. Is this a side effect of being an empath, embracing the arts among with it.
"Quite."
His eyes followed... not her eyes. Purely an aesthetic appreciation, trust.
His pure Light body constitution absolutely puts mind over the physical.
Trust.
Ah, the enforcer of the Head. Built and formed to instil fear, but ending up a flame moths fly towards to immolate afterwards. He once resented them, you know?