[At the back of his mind Octavian always wonders how different Charles is compared to himself, in terms of the very literal terms and conditions of being a ghost. There are these bits about moving on, about unfinished business, and while he cannot deny he has unfinished business, it has always seemed that Charles' type of ghosts are more... regulated? Bound to the canon of ghost stories that permeate every culture? He is an amalgamation of spite and shoestring spellwork and luck, but—

It's good to know the rage is still there. That that of all things crosses the boundaries of Ghost Rules. Charles' anger is good, he thinks, it's useful; that anger will keep him going when nothing else will, so: good, that he has it.]

That is the plan. If he arrives here. It will be over and over. I have considered it.

[Imagine! The recursiveness of it! Ah!! But he's patient, so it's fine. His gaze darts to the photograph and back again.]

That is a sufficient reminder. I suppose.