Because he does nothing these days...
*is a bit bored and a bit tired and sitting in a window, staring up at a sky that looks about ready to pour something down and yet refuses to open wide, and speaks to himself, quoting something not Dante for once* "Well, what tongue does the wind talk? What nationality is a storm? What country do rains come from? What color is lightning? Where does thunder go when it dies?" *continues staring upward, Caina curled up in a little sleeping ball of ferret in his lap, and wonders if he's truly reclaimed his sanity or if his mind is just pretending*
Typist: So yes. Because I need to at least attempt some vague form of activity for the puppets who will actually talk to me even if no one ever wants to interact with them anymore. Anyone who knows Cocytus, or even those who don't, can feel free to talk to him.
Typist: So yes. Because I need to at least attempt some vague form of activity for the puppets who will actually talk to me even if no one ever wants to interact with them anymore. Anyone who knows Cocytus, or even those who don't, can feel free to talk to him.