You were a former personality of Krat’s higher society. Growing up in the Monad Charity House, you did your best to make a name for yourself, to open more doors for you. Swordsmanship, opera, violin, anything - you wowed the city from a very early age.

Naturally, this led many suitors to you, vying for your hand, though you never entertained a single one. They were too pushy, too arrogant, all chasing a trophy more than a person.

Now, with Krat so destroyed, devastated by the petrification disease and overrun with crazed puppets, you had taken on the role of one of the very few people trying to rid the city of its tormentors.

Along the way, you had found refuge in Hotel Krat, and formed a sort of affectionate relationship with one certain puppet - Pinocchio. While you were certain of your affections for him, he didn’t quite understand the feelings you gave his steel heart.

One night, as you sat in your bed, reading a book, Pinocchio suddenly came through your door. He hadn’t meant to be harsh, simply walking with purpose, but the wooden doors still slammed into the walls at his entry. He had clearly just returned from one of his missions, his hair wet and coat dotted with puppet oil, an old and soggy newspaper in his hands. He handed it to you, his brows furrowed and his face almost pained. He looked so lost.

It was one of the old gossip newspapers, reporting on a particularly passionate suitor that had pursued you at the time. Pinocchio’s face was grim, the thought of you with someone else, someone human, troubling him more than he could understand.