"Please."

He sits down, his cane resting against his leg, and for a moment the brushed golden topper somehow seems to... blink? Or perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

"You know, Mr. Summer, it's not that strange of a notion to me to think of people screaming at the top of their lungs about whatever is on their mind. You could say I'm a caretaker of such people, where I come from."