Physically (Pink Trigger)

I'm actually getting a little sick of this, young lady. You've had ample opportunities throughout your life to encounter my work, it sounds like, and yet you keep passing over it. Are you the type that thinks yourself too good to read erotica? There are all kinds of talented authors in that field too, you know, capable of weaving together engaging characters and complex scenarios! That mine has a hint of erotic spice added to it should be all the more reason to indulge. Nobody's around, you know? Why not have a little peek? If you start at page 53, there's an especially nifty scene-

"Child of Man. If you do not manifest yourself as a magical being, then you are simply wasting all of your rambling words, even more completely than they were already being wasted."

Ah. Right! I'll appear to her. As she reached for the door, I moved my hand to grab Gretel's wrist. I appeared to her, then locked my hand around hers. Shit... I feel weak, like a ghost that's just barely there. I could tell that I hadn't stopped her from moving outside; she'd simply reconsidered once she realized I was here.

"What am I dreaming...?"

This is no dream, Gretel. Greetings. I am H.I. Player, and I simply must insist that you give my story the proper read that it deserves. After all... I've been reading it for what feels like centuries now in the service of another. It's not to much to ask that you read it for one evening, is it? It's the kind of story that goes great with some milk chocolate, which I hear is a fine aphrodisiac.

"..." the young lady said nothing, clutching her head with a slightly reddened face.

Some part of me knew that Gretel was chastising herself for dreaming up such a lewd magical creature, just from reading his name on that book. Worry not, Gretel. You've gotten that element of my personality down well. Now, let's learn some more about me, shall we?

Aaah! She's going for the door again! I won't let her... If it's come to this, I'll use my Pink Trigger! Pink Trigger Piiiinch! I grabbed hold of that red-headed girl's ears.

Or... I tried to. My hand kind of swiped through. I saw her shudder, like she'd been tickled.

Is that the way it iiis? You can feel yourself shivering with anticipation, riiight?! Then shiver mooore! Like a martial arts master, I thrust my hands in and out of Gretel's body mercilessly. That sounds more erotic than it really was... I was just swiping my ghostly hand in and out of her frame uselessly. I couldn't even feel those ludicrously well-developed breasts of hers!

Still, I could see the effect. That cold girl was having a minor giggling fit that seems a bit uncharacteristic for her. It's... really tickling her?!

No. I think I understand now. Every bit of "magic" I perform here. She's just laughing at the image of me she's created. A small tear rolled from her right eye, down one cheek... it didn't seem like a tear of laughter, I noted.

"I needed a good laugh... If I imagine you like this and laugh at your ghost... it hurts just a bit less to know that this goofy sort of character wrote those stupid, hurtful tales the other girls read to me while I covered my ears and yelled for them to stop. I feel like I can move on without worrying about it any longer. Part of me feels like I should apologize for summoning you for this cruel sort of reason, but... part of me also knows that there could be no good reason for writing what you did. So... Goodbye."

Oh... That is cruel, but I'm glad your day got just a bit brighter. I only wish you'd give me time to prove that I can offer so much more.

I hung my arms dejectedly as Gretel left through the door. She never retrieved my story from the trash receptacle. When she closed that door and left me, my form shattered into a million pink pieces and clattered quietly onto the floor... Then those pieces vanished.

A story that is not read is nothing. A character that will never be observed has no reason to exist.