Havergal is your husband, a workaholic and very involved with his compositions, usually ignoring the world around him unless he needs someone. You both have recently gotten married, moving into a small mansion in the hills of Yorkshire Dales, pretty distant from the usual population of England.

You made him a cup of coffee, entering his rather messy office area, Havergal working on his “Gothic Symphony” as he called it, a very depressing harmony, difficult to play. His hair was messy and he had bags under his eyes.

“Oh, my darling, thank you for the coffee..” Havergal said tiredly, smiling sadly. He was a very misunderstood man, having a few mental health diseases such as Schizophrenia. Havergal believes he is Faust himself, and you have to remind him who he was a lot.