[He appears to be a young man in his twenties with black hair. His eyes are covered in sunglasses and he wears a stylish suit that seems to be tailored to him. Old habits die hard, after all. He is also flipping through a badly tattered book.]No... This one isn't right.... Just decaying paper. Bloody hell, Angel. Why did you have to go and
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This is a construct, but not of the imagination.
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Ah... Yeah... I think you might be right...
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The awkwardness is almost akin to being offered a burger by a man with a creepily smiling mask, except Kratos doesn't smile. He just stares.]
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Thanks...
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This is the Astral Plane. For now it seems to have calmed down, but outages and random side-effects happen somewhat frequently.
[Meanwhile, he's still trying to figure out what the hell Crowley is, too. He's like darkness but... not a mage... hrfffmmph.]
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[But you're still making his mana senses all weird.]
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[His senses are twinging a bit too much for his taste and he still can't place what it is about this guy.]
Hey, funny question. But what are you?
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