My boyo. He's so adorable but SOOOO deranged it's not even funny. Like how do you work for human traffickers to make up for your inescapable poverty, use your magic to turn people into puppets to sell, enchant them to participate in a whimsical musical number for no reason but your own personal amusement, tell the terrified victims over loudspeaker how shit you think they are, let yourself be enraged by a bunch of sassy high schoolers and then decide by the end of the day, to quote my dear friend Azul Ashengrotto, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! How does one go from trafficking children to wanting to found a school for magicless children in the span of 24 hours. How do you manage to escape a probably exploitative work contract AND steal your bosses' property in the span of 24 hours with nothing but 1 madol and a dream? How's he going to fund this school? He apparently has to be worried about getting enough to eat. How do you just go "you're right, no more trafficking children, from now on I'm gonna commit to the good of humanity :)"
His lesson from the whole thing was "actually schools are good!" rather than "wow I feel so bad for all the people I probably sold :/"
There is not a sane bone in his body and no rational thought in his brain. His thoughts probably contain so much cursing that the sentences are unintelligible when you censor them. Everytime he speaks to a person he doesn't like, he internally adds "you mediocre little fuckshit pissbabies" or similar to the end of the statements. He has the most deranged evil laugh ever. Even when he likes you and you tell him a funny joke he goes "hehehahahaaAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAH" like he's about to kill someone. He likes having his little ears scratched. He bites though.
He's like the biggest asshole cat you can mentally picture. He doesn't just push stuff off your shelves, he takes the vases and chucks them at unsuspecting pedestrians. He's mad at you and you ask him for a glass of milk and he takes the milk carton out of the fridge and pours the entire thing all over the floor and kitchen counters without breaking eye contact. There's a collection of knives on his bedroom wall.
He's my special little guy. They want to study him to update the DSM-5. He eats the rich. He needs some money to found his little school so he gotta work in retail, scanning the customers' products at checkout and muttering "fucking bourgeoisie cockroach" under his breath. Shamelessly lists "amusement park manager" and "salesman" in his CV as if he worked at a legitimate business. He once had a mental breakdown at the grocery store after closing hour and downed a bottle of whiskey straight from the shelf and then danced through the snack aisle stabbing his cane into the chips bags out of boredom while singing "you're never fully dressed without a smile". Gidel being mute is the only reason this kid does not curse like an uncensored Rapper version of Ebenezer Scrooge.
He's clinically insane. He's the most wondrous attraction at Playful Land. He hopes the afterlife is a musical. He's Fellow Honest. This is a fake name.
