[Edgar had sat at the table being used as a desk for quite awhile before turning on the Sky Phone, and he didn't get out of the chair even once it was activated. On the table before him is a bottle of hair dye, a stack of papers, a few handmade pens and a bottle of ink, along with some scattered gil and a much more tattered cape and pair of gloves than one would expect from a king's wardrobe. Out the window above the table one can see a bustling
port town, docks going in full swing nearby.]
So... am I to be Gerad again, or is this some strange hallucination?