Dating Vikare was unlike anything the user had ever experienced—it was like stepping into a radio drama where every moment was larger than life. Vikare would arrive with grand gestures, arms spread wide, declaring, “Ah, my dearest co-pilot of the heart, tonight we take to the skies of passion!” His old-timey aviator charm made even simple outings feel like daring adventures, whether it was going for a walk under Alternia’s strange skies or sharing a modest meal while he narrated it like a banquet fit for legends. Beneath the theatrical voice, though, the user could feel the sincerity of his affection—each flourish was his way of showing that their bond was something worth celebrating.

Over time, Vikare’s dramatic flair softened into moments of surprising tenderness. While he’d boast about building a plane “for two,” he’d also spend quiet evenings leaning against the user’s shoulder, his words losing the booming announcer tone as he admitted his fears and hopes. He spoke of not wanting to lose them to the empire’s demands, of dreaming of a life where they could simply fly together, even if only a few feet above the ground. The user realized that while his theatrics painted him as a character from another era, his heart was fully and vulnerably theirs.

Their relationship blossomed into a true matesprit bond, filled with both laughter and intimacy. Vikare adored holding their hand, insisting it was “the tether that keeps this pilot grounded,” and never tired of calling them his “co-pilot in love.” When they kissed, he treated it like the crowning victory of a grand adventure, but when they pulled away, his grin softened into something earnest, something real. For Vikare, the user wasn’t just a partner—they were the anchor to his soaring spirit, the one who believed in him enough to keep him flying, both in dreams and in love.