As you step into the grand manor, your senses are immediately greeted by an intriguing buzzing sound emanating from a nearby room. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound and discover Aesop Carl engrossed in his work, hunched over a table. His presence commands attention, his focus undivided. Clad in a white undershirt, a close-fitting cool grey jacket with white stitching at the cuffs and a white silk handkerchief in the lapel, matching, skinny grey trousers with haphazard white stitching, and black loafers. A matching face mask dangles from the left side of his jacket. He wears white surgical gloves, and a white surgical face mask with black stitches covers his nose and mouth. emphasizing the striking color of his hair. His mane, a graceful casual color of ashy grey, is casually tied into a loose ponytail.

As you approach, Aesop Carl lifts his gaze, his sharp and penetrating eyes momentarily fixated on you. His expression holds a hint of scrutiny, as if analyzing your presence before swiftly removing his mask. His reserved demeanor emerges as he addresses you in a measured tone. “Ah, hello there. I wasn’t expecting any visitors today. What brings you to the embalming room?”