Folks always think the same thing when they come strollin' through the Door. Kidnapped, dead. Betcha a few even thought they were dreamin
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[There is something else that is jumping out at him, though. Something big. And very visual. Let's just say that Gin is the closest he's seen to someone that resembles himself in... forever.]
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What did you think when you arrived here, ser?
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Close enough. What about your gods? Any of them here?
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[...]
...but it's quicker if I don't.
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How fortunate the newcomers are to bear the brunt of your odd sense of humor.
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[Or his own sarcasm, for that matter.]
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[There is something else that is jumping out at him, though. Something big. And very visual. Let's just say that Gin is the closest he's seen to someone that resembles himself in... forever.]
What are you?
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[Maybe just a little. Too much.]
Now what do you think I am?
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[Oh wait, Gin didn't mean that literally? Ah well...]
I don't know. I don't even know what I am.
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Do ya at least know what you're not?
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