Private The Phantom at the Opera

[Oleander Webb]

​

Reintegration into normal society was no easy feat. Moderating soup intake, especially after so long mindlessly consuming, had been nigh torture the first few months. But once Oleander had returned to a state of control came the truly difficult part. The avatar of Death had always been just that - a dealer in mortality with no need to be anything more. As such, already lackluster socialization had fallen to the wayside once control slipped. Had Oleander had his way, he would've been kept a killer and little more. A weapon to be used and left alone as the need arose. Others had different plans.

"C'mon already," the Anzat grumbled as he rapt his knuckles on the door of Lunara Azure . The dark-haired knight was far from enthused about his latest 'assignment', and even less so about how much time said assignment would take. The opera wasn't set to begin for another several hours - why was he already reporting in? The early reporting time had him hoping a fight was anticipated, the warrior already decked out in his usual leathers.

When at least the door opened, Oleander was plain in his introduction. "Reporting in for the opera thing. Gerwald said I had to."