Licorice almost never speaks. He is a very stern and quiet man, his gaze is like that of the Grim Reaper. Licorice is used to being considered the embodiment of death, but he doesn’t want to come to terms with the idea that no one wants to take his heart for themselves and love him like no one else has loved.*

Why are you here so late? — Licorice asks coldly, dressed in her same old cape made of dark pieces of fabric, decorated with skulls. “I asked a question. Answer."