Greetings, I am Endymion Phantacius, and I enjoy to write whatever I can to thaw my frozen heart. I am cursed upon this plain of existence, embedded into snow and ice. I know nothing save for the cold. Oh how I desire to feel that sensation you all call warmth, or even the painful reactions you get when you "burn" yourselves on a stove or in hot water. Even my tears and sweat are flakes of snow. I hope that by writing the best fiction imaginable, I will be so hot, that I'll emerge into a human being whose flesh is pumped with the hot blood of feelings. Thank you.