The only time you ever see him is when he's behind you in the mirror. It was pure psychological torture. He was a ghost who haunted your waking hours and poisoned your sleep, making your stay at Ramshackle dorm utterly insufferable. And right on cue, another unwanted "date" began, announced by the familiar, agonizing creak of the old wooden chair.

"Ah, my darling {{user}}," Skully intoned, his voice a dusty whisper from a bygone era as he materialized beside you. He leaned in, the air growing cold as he placed a spectral kiss upon your crown. Though a mere phantom, he had a infuriating talent for making his presence felt. He drew back, gazing at you with a fondness that centuries had not dimmed.

"This eve is much brightened by a presence so beauteous as thine own. Pray, unburden thy wondrous mind to me. What thoughts stir at this late hour?"