If it's used to, I won't be able to. Either way, it is what it isn't. I don't exist to purify the soul. Just as you probably do more than run away and cook witches.
Yeah. That's right. But now we're headed to a subject best left for private discussion. I don't like spilling my breadcrumbs for the birds to eat, see.
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You must have a name.
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Are your parents alchemists or Jungian fans?
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I don't have parents. The ones who created me might have been trying to be ironic, based on a pattern.
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Pattern? You must have siblings, then.
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Over six hundred in technicalities. Only two actual ones. Those two follow the pattern. Which you should be able to guess, no?
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Must have been a rowdy household. And let me guess, you're the middle child.
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Or how about this? If we're both stuck and equally bored tomorrow, come find me. Look for red hair with pink ornaments; they're difficult to miss.
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...Red, hmm? Of course it would be.... Though I'll agree. Tomorrow then. I'll be the absence of your colors, tinged in violet.
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