[his handwriting is close, spiky, and it leans slightly to the right]Keep finding damn sparkles everywhere. Whose dumbass idea was that
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No, I can smell stuff. How people are feeling. Angry or sad or tired. What they had for lunch. And I can hear things, too, like people talking, except they're a long way away. Like all my senses have been sharpened. It's starting to make my head hurt.
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Anyways, don't worry too much. We're all just whistling in the dark here. Name's Ghost.
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If people are a problem, you can always try hanging out in places where there's less of 'em. Like the park or the hot springs.
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Think I found the park last night. Big open space?
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And I am afraid that sense is something that is largely lacking in Edensphere.
My name is Justice.
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[strike scribbled out as soon as he realised what he was writing]
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My name is Clé; it is nice to make your acquaintance.
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